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A, C. Antony and Cleopatra. 

A. W, All's Well that Ends Well. 

A. Y. As You Like It. 

C. Coriolanus. 

C. E. Comedy of Errors, 

Cym, Cymbeline. 

//. Hamlet. 

Henry Fourth, Part 

//. IV. PT. I. 

H, IV. PT. n. 

U. VL PT. I. 

H. VL PT. II. 

H. VI. PT. III. 

/. C. Julius Caesar. 
II.V. Henry Fifth. 
II.VIIL Henry Eighth. 
K. J. King John, 

Henry Fourth, Part 
Henry Sixth, Part 
Henry Sixth, Part 
Henry Sixth, Part 

K. L. King Lear. 

R. II. Richard the Second. 

R. III. Richard the Third. 

L. L. Love's Labour Lost. 

31. Macbeth. 

31. A. Much Ado about Nothing. 

31. 31. Measure for Measure, 

J/.iV. Midsummer Night's Dream. 

31. V. Merchant of Venice. 

31. W. Merry Wives of Windsor, 

0. Othello. 

P. P. Pericles, Prince of Tyra* 

R. J. Romeo and Juliet, 

T. Tempest. 

T. A. Timon of Athens. 

Tit. And. Titus Andronicus. 

T. C. Troilus and Ciessida. 

T. 0, Two Gentlemen of Verona, 

T.N. Twelfth Night. 

T. S. Taming of the Shrew. 

W. T Winter's Tale. 

*^*- The Act is expressed by Roman numerals ; the Scene by Arabia 

Example : A. C. iv. 7, signifies, Antony and Cleopatra, Act the Fourth, 
Scene the Seventh, 


The matchless genius of Shakespeare has furnished occupati«)n 
for authors, from the very age in which he wrote, down to the pre- 
sent day ; so that, independent of the innumerable editions of his 
plays, from the original authentic copies, to the modern mutila- 
tions rej)resented under his name upon the stage, we have more 
than two hundred works of which Shakespeare and his writings 
are the subject. 

Such being the case, it may be thought necessary, for one who 
ventures to add to the number, to offer some apology to the public 
for so doing. That tendered for the present compilation is founded 
on the belief, that among all these works, there does not exist one 
which effectively occupies the ground here taken, and very few 
which even attempt to connect Shakespeare's felicitous expressions 
• — exhibiting, as they do, a matchless insight into human nature — 
with the various casualties, motives, and objects of ordinary life. 
Such a task, if performed with judgment and faithfulness, could 
hardly fail to prove both pleasing and useful. In support of the 
opinion that this task yet remained to be accomplished, it will be 
necessary to submit a few observations concerning the works which 
profess to have the same object, upon the comparative merits of 
which with the Shakespearian Dictionary, its pretensions to 
public favour must be founded. 

Ayscough's '* Index to ShakespeaTO," is a work of great labour, 
and, as a verbal compilation, is doubtless of utility; but it is a 
dictionary of the poet's words, rather than of his expressions, giving 
only so much of the context as was necessary to elucidate the 
peculiar sense wherein each word is to be understood, and con 
necting this with remarkable speeches only by means of refer- 
ences. From almost any arrangement of the words of such an 
author, occasiimal scintillations will necessarily flash out ; but in 

V ^ 2 

this case, the pleasing effect, which thus occurs, is destroyed when 
we arrive at the next word in the catalogue. We may learn to 
number the occasions wherein each word recurs throughout the 
author's writings, but what have the imagination or the feelings 
to do with such a calculation ? We may, indeed, retain the con- 
sciousness we bring with us of treading on hallowed ground, but 
feel not the inspiring ii^fluence of the divinity. 

Certain smaller compilations, put forth under the captivating 
title of " Beauties of Shakespeare," contain only the more remark- 
able speeches, and, for the most part, are confined to such as are 
clothed in verse ; omitting altogether the thousands of expres- 
sions strewed profusely throughout the prose speeches and col- 
loquies, wherein are to be found all those most surprising flashes 
of description, alternating from the grotesque to the sublime, 
which peculiarly distinguish the Bard of Avon from all other 
writers, either ancient or modern. 

In this class of compilations must be included a work, pub- 
lished about ten years since, "by the author of the Peerage and 
Baronetage Chart," and called "A Dictionary of Quotations from 
Shakespeare ;" but the same objection that attends the " Beauties," 
must be made against the " Dictionary." The quotations are given 
exclusively from the measured poetry of the author, while the prose 
speeches and colloquies are wholly neglected. Fearful of being 
suspected of speaking unfairly, concerning a work which comes, 
perhaps, the nearest in collision with the present, a specimen is 
here introduced, whence the reader may form some opinion of the 
editorial discrimination which has been exhibited. Under the head 
of Drunkenness, the description of Danish regal ceremonies is intro- 
duced from Hamlet: — 

" Grive me the cups ; 
And let the kettle to the trumpet speak, 
The trumpet to the cannoneer witho\it, 
The cannons to the heavens, the heavens to earth, 
Now the king drinks to Hamlet." 

Under the same head we find inserted the pledge of returning 
amity between Brutus and Cassius, taken from the play of Julius 
Cjjesar : — 

" Give me a bowl of wine ; 
In this I bury all unkindness, Cassius." 

f rftatf. 

As another illustration of the same subject, we have the expression 
of Richard, endeavouring to rally his downcast spirits against the 
pressure of a guilty conscience : — 

" Give me a bowl of wine ; 
I have not that alacrity of spirit 
Nor cheer of mind that I was wont to have." 

Now it is difi&cult to conceive how these different quotations re- 
late to drunkenness, save only as they refer to the act of drinking; 
without which, that wretched state or propensity which we express 
by the word drunkenness, cannot indeed have existence. 

" The Aphorisms of Shakespjeare," edited by Mr. Capel Lofft, and 
printed and published at Bury St. Edmunds about twenty years 
ago, formed a collection worthy of that highly gifted gentleman. 
Mr. Lofft extracted sentences from Shakespeare, beginning with 
the play of Hamlet. To each extract he prefixed a synonym, or 
concisely descriptive sentence. Where he conceived the author to 
be obscure, from having used terms that have become obsolete, or 
encumbered by expletives, he took the liberty of altering the text, 
and of reducing any extract according to his own pleasure, into an 
aphoristic compass. The result proved, as might have been ex- 
pected from so competent an editor, and such rich materials, one of 
the most choice collections of aphoristic wisdom that ever issued 
from the press. The defects of Mr. Lofft's book were, that he ar- 
ranged each play separately, without any classification of subjects, 
or alphabetical order : hence its inconvenience as a work of refer- 
ence. Suppose it were rc^-quired to be known what Shakespeare 
had said on the subject of Grief, Man, Pride, or any other matter, a 
person would probably require to look for these in as many different 
places, as Shakespeare wrote plays. As a Dictionary of Shake- 
spearian Quotations, it could not, for obvious reasons, be of any use. 

In the compilation now submitted to the public, each extract will 
be found classed under its appropriate head ; and where the import 
could be expressed in a single word, it is so expressed ; but where 
such brevity was found impracticable, the drift or spirit of the ex- 
tract is expressed in the fewest words possible. In certain cases it 
lias been found impracticable to express the import of an extract 
literally, either by a single word, or by a short sentence. In such 
cases the compiler has endeavoured to catch the spirit, and to prefix 
guch a term as would best convey it to the reader's comprehension. 

|5 rrfnrr. 

If he lias not in all such cases been successful, the candid will not 
hastily condemn, but refer for a better term to the context. What- 
ever the compiler's demerits may be, the charge of altering the 
language of Shakespeare cannot be sustained, for the text is in no 
instance meddled with, except with the view to reconcile slight va- 
riations which occur in the most authentic editions. The whole 
collection has been finally revised, and collated with the edition of 
Ileminge and Condell, folio, Lond. 1632. 

As a table-book, it is presumed this work will be found no less 
pleasing, than as a book of reference it will be useful. « Expres- 
sions, long and short, grave and gay, when read consecutively, will 
ever produce a pleasing effect ; and the devoted admirer of Shake- 
speare will not, it is hoped, be displeased at occasionally meeting 
beauties which had long been familiar to him, suddenly presenting 
themselves from behind coverts where he had not expected to see 

The Dictionary op Shakespearian Quotations, being the re- 
sult of some thought, as well as labour, is respectfully offered as a 
book of utility to foreigners, young persons, and others, engaged in 
enquiries into the structure of our language ; the synonym and the 
extract being mutually illustrative, according to Locke's idea of a 



Wnh ni ItmkesjjMrh 

There have been men of learning and talent in the world, whose 
merits, real or supposed, have ensured to their names and memorieg 
honours more glorious and more lasting than the highest titles which 
%ny merely hereditary or heraldic claims could boast. We have *' the 
learned John Selden ;" " the judicious Hooker ;" "the ever-memorable 
John Hales ;" ** the admirable Crichton ;" *' the leviathan in literature^ 
Dr. Samuel Johnson," and many others; but not one of all thia 
phalanx of merit has more justly deserved his honorary distinction, 
than "the Immortal Shakespeare." Had this man lived in the 
ancient days of Greece or Rome, he had now occupied no contempt- 
ible place in the mythological records of those times. But Shake- 
speare was born to higher honours than any to be derived from a 
Pagan apotheosis. He lives in the heart of every man of correct 
taste — he dwells on the lip of eloquence — he gives life, and soul, 
and energy to every feeling expression — he lends his powerful aid 
to the moralist, and is not despised even by the true religionist 
— nay, his very enemies, the saints of modern date, " praise him in 
the gate " — and often, unwittingly, it is granted, do homage to his 
memory by borrowing his language to aid their own crude concep- 
tions ; nor have instances been wanting, within the observation of 
the writer, of persons, even in the pulpit, quoting the "bard of 
Avon," at a time when they themselves imagined they were bor- 
rowing from some of our best divines. 

Alas! how difficult a task it is to write of Shakespeare and his 
works in terms adequate to their claims on our wonder, admiration, 

(CritkismH u tijj IBntlts nf lljakispart. 

and esteem ! Yet nearly one hundred different works have already 
been successively published on the writings and genius of this 
truly immortal bard. 

Of the life of our author nothing new can be said : his biography 
has been exhausted, yet would it be a gross injustice to him to print 
his works without prefixing whatever has been authentically handed 
down to us. But his mind lives for ever ; and will for ever furnish 
some new topic of admiration, or some fresh subject of literary 

A contemporary wi'iter on Ecclesiastical History, speaking of that 
best of books, the Bible, thus expresses himself: *' One little book, 
which I can carry in my bosom, and refer to in every exigence of 
moment to my soul's peace, is worth all the mighty tomes of the 
Vatican; superior, in my estimation, to all that ever bishops wrote, 
or canonists have quarrelled about." There is nothing profane in 
the observation, that what the Sacred Volume is to the devout 
Christian, the works of Shakespeare are to the man of taste ; for 
there is scarcely a subject of the slightest interest, that has not re- 
ceived some illustration from the writings of this author, in whose 
mind appear to have been embodied all the forms and fashions, all 
the great, and all the minute shades of human character. Shake- 
speare was great upon all subjects, which is more than can, with 
truth, be asserted of any other writer, in any age or any country. 
His wri!ings may be referred to on almost all occasions ; and the 
man whose mind is stored with the language of our bard, need 
never be at a loss for topics of conversation, or subjects of important 

Shakespeare was not only what Ben Jonson denominates him, the 

- soul of the age, 

The applause, delight, and wonder of the stage ;" 

but is to this hour the constant companion of the contemplative, aa 
jrell as the gay associate of the playful and the happy. 

"Thus while I wond'ring pause o'er Shakespeare's page, 
I mark in visions of delight the sage ; 

High o'er the wrecks of man, who stands sublime, 
A column in the melancholy waste, 
(Its glory humbled and its glories past,) 

Majestic 'mid the solitude of time." 

,- ! . , 

On this head it would be unpardonable to omit noticing what 
Schlegel has said of our poet, in his German "Lectures on the 
Jrama," which, translated into English, is as follows: — Ne\er, . 
perhaps, was there so comprehensive a talent for characterization 
as S-hakespeare's. It not only grasps the diversities of rank, sex, 
and age, down to the dawnings of infancy ; not only do the king 
and the beggar, the hero and the pickpocket, the wise and the idiot, 
speak and act with equal truth — not only does he transport himself 
to distant ages and to foreign nations, and pourtray in the most 
accurate manner, with only a few apparent violations of costume, 
the spirit of the ancient Romans — of the French in their wars with 
the English — of the English themselves during a great part of their 
history — of the Southern Europeans (in the serious parts of many 
of his comedies,) the cultivated society of that time, and the former 
rude and barbarous state of the north ; his human characters have 
not only such depth and precision that they cannot be arranged 
under classes, and are inexhaustible, even in conception ; no, this 
Prometheus not merely forms men, but opens the gates of the magi- 
cal world of spirits; calls up the midnight ghost; exhibits before us 
his witches amidst their unhallowed mysteries; peoples the air with 
sportive fairies and sylphs ; and these beings, existing only in ima- 
gination, possess such truth and consistency, that even when they 
are deformed monsters, like Caliban, he extorts the assenting convic- 
tion that, if there should be such beings, they would so conduct 
themselves. In a word, as he carries with him the most fruitful 
and daring fancy into the kingdom of nature, on the other hand he 
carries nature into the regions of fancy, lying beyond the confines 
of reality. We are lost in astonishment at seeing the extraordinary, 
the wonderful, and the unheard, in such intimate^ nearness. 

Again: if Shakespeare deserves oui' admiration for his charac- 
ters, he is equally deserving of it for the exhibition of passion — 
taking this word in its widest signification, as including every men- 
tal condition, every tone of indiflFerence, or familiar mirth, to the 
wildest rage and despair. He gives us the history of minds ; he 
lays open to us, in a single word, a whole series of preceding con- 
ditions. His passions do not at first stand displayed to us in all 
their height, as is the case with so many tragic poets, who, in the 
language of Lessing, are thorough masters of the legal style of love. 
He paints, in a most inimitable manner, the gradual progress from 
the first origin. " He gives," as Lessing says, ** a living picture of 


CritirisniHniitliB i^nrks nf IliaktsjiBarr. 

all tlie most minute and secret artifices by which a feeling steals 
into our souls ; of all the imperceptible advantages which it there 
gains ; of all the stratagems by which every other passion is made 
subservient to it, till it becomes the sole tyrant of our desires and 
aversions. Of all poets, perhaps, he alone has pourtrayed the men- 
tal diseases — melancholy, delirium, lunacy, — with such inexpress- 
ible, and in every respect, definite truth, that the physician may 
enrich his observations from them in the same manner as from real 

And yet Johnson has objected to Shakespeare, that his pathos is 
not always natural and free from affectation. There are, it is true, 
passages, though, comparatively speaking, very few, where his poetry 
exceeds the bounds of true dialogue ; where a too soaring imagina.- 
tion, a too luxuriant wit, rendered the complete dramatic forgetful- 
11 ess of himself impossible. Hence an idea has been formed of sim- 
ple and natural pathos, which consists in exclamations destitute of 
imagery, and nowise elevated above every-day life. But energe-* 
tical passions electrify the whole of the mental powers, and conse- 
quently they will, in highly-favoured natures, express themselves 
in an ingenious and figurative manner. Besides, to use the obser- 
vation of Mrs. Montagu — " Heaven-born genius acts from something 
superior to rules, and antecedent to rules, and has a right of appeal 
to Nature herself." In accordance with this sentiment, it is re- 
marked by the German critic, that the rights of the poetical form 
have not been duly weighed. Shakespeare, who was always sure 
of his object, to move in a sufficiently powerful manner when he 
wished to do so, has occasionally, by indulging in a freer play, pur- 
I^osely moderated the impressions when too painful, and immediately 
introduced a musical alleviation of our sympathy. He had not 
those rude ideas of his wit which many moderns seem to have, as if 
the poet, like the clown in the proverb, must strike twice in the 
same place. 



IBilliam IjiakesjiMr^, 

WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE, the most illustrious name in the 
liistory of English dramatic poetry, was born at Stratford-upon- 
Avon, on the 23d of April, 1564. His father, who sprang from a 
^ood family, was a considerable dealer in wool, and had been an 
officer and bailiff of Stratford, where he for some time acted as 
justice of the peace. His mother was of the ancient family of 
Arden, in the same county, one of undoubted gentility. William, who 
was the eldest of ten children, received the common education of a 
country free-school, where, it is probable, he acquired what little 
Latin he was master of. At an early age, he was taken by his 
father to assist in his own business, and tlius deprived of attaining 
any proficiency in classical literature ; but whether a better ac- 
quaintance with ancient authors might not ha\e restrained some 
of that fire, impetuosity, and even beautiful extravagance, which 
we admire in Shakespeare, may well admit of a dispute. Be this 
as it may, he seems to have adopted the mode of life which his 
father proposed to him ; and we find that in his eighteenth year he 
married Ann Hathaway, the daughter of a substantial yeoman in 
the neighbourhood, who was eight years older than himself. Of his 
domestic establishment, or professional occupation, at this time 
nothing determinate is recorded ; but it appears that he was wild 
and irregular, from the fact of liis connexion with a party who 
made a practice of stealing the deer of Sir Thomas Lucy, of Char- 
lecote, near Stratford. This imprudence brought upon hhn a 

prosecution, which he rendered more severe by a lampoon upon 
that gentleman, in the form of a ballad which he had affixed to his 
park gates. He also indiilges in a vein of splenetic drollery upon 
the' same magistrate, in the character of Justice Shallow, in the 
opening scene of " The Merry Wives of Windsor;" which continued 
hostility, as he was indisputably a kind-hearted man, we may 
presume was occasioned by an excess of rigour and pertinacity on 
the part of Sir Thomas. 

The consequence of this youthful imprudence drove Mm to 
London for shelter; and it is some proof that he had already 
imbibed a taste for the drama, that his first application was to the 
players, among whom, in one Thomas Green, a popular comedian 
of the day, he met a townsman and acquaintance. This removal 
has been thought to have taken place in 1586, when he was in hia 
twenty-second year. If tradition may be depended upon, he was 
necessitated, in the first instance to .become the prompter's call-boy 
or attendant, while another less probable story describes him ab 
holding the horses of those who attended the play without servants, 
a prevalent custom at that period. 

As an actor, the top of his performance is said to have been the 
Ghost in his own Hamlet. " I should have been much more 
pleased," says Mr. Rowe in his remarks on the genius and writings 
of Shakespeare, "to have learned, from certain authority, which 
was the first play he wrote; it would be* without doubt a pleasure 
to any man, curious in things of this kind, to see and know what 
was the first essay of a fancy like Shakespeare's. Perhaps we are 
not to look for his beginnings, like those of other authors, among 
their least perfect writings ; art had so little, and nature so large a 
share in what he did, that, for aught I know, the performances of 
his youth, as they were the most vigorous, and had the most fire 
and strength of imagination in them, were the best. I would not 
be thought by this to mean, that his fancy was so loose and extra- 
vagant, as to be independent of the rule and government of judg- 
ment ; but that what he thought was commonly so great, so justly 
and rightly conceived in itself, that it wanted little or no correction, 
and was immediately approved by an impartial judgment at the 
first sight. But, though the order of time in which the several 
pieces were written, be generally uncertain, yet there are passages 
in some few of them which seem to fix their dates. So the Chorus 
at the end of the fourth act of Henri/ the Fifth ^ by a compliment 

2 ■ 

very handsomely turned to the Earl of Essex, shows the play to 
have been written when that lord was general for the queen m 
Ireland ; and his eulogy upon Queen Elizabeth, and her successor 
King James, in the latter end of his Henry the Eighth^ is a proof of 
that play's being written after the accession of the latter of these 
two princes to the crown of England. Whatever the particular 
iim^s of his writings were, the people of his age, who began to 
grow wonderfully fond of diversions of this kind, could not but be 
highly pleased to see a genius arise amongst them of so pleasurable, 
so rich a vein, and so plentifully capable of furnishing their 
favourite entertainments. Besides the advantages of his wit, he 
was in himself a good natured man, of great sweetness in his 
manners, and a most agreeable companion ; so that it is no wonder, 
if, with so many good qualities, he made himself acquainted with 
the best conversations of those times. Queen Elizabeth had several 
of his plays acted before her; and, without a doubt, gave him 
many gracious marks of her favour: it is that maiden princess 
plainly whom he intends by 

« a, fair vestal, throned by the west." 

A Midsummer NigTifs Dream, 

And that whole passage is a compliment very properly brought in, 
ftnd very handsomely applied to her. She was so well pleased with 
the admirable character of Falstaff^ in. the Two Parts of Henry the 
Fourth^ that she commanded him to continue it for one play more, 
and to show him in love. This is said to be the occasion of his 
writing The Merry Wives of Windsor. How well she was obeyed, 
the play itself is an admirable proof. Upon this occasion, it may 
not be improper to observe, that this part of Falstaff is said to have 
been written originally under the name of Oldcastle : some of that 
family being then remaining, the Queen was pleased to command 
him to alter it ; upon which he made use of Falstaff. The present 
offence was indeed avoided; but I do not know whether the author 
may not have been somewhat to blame in his second choice, since it ^ 
is certain that Sir John Falstaff, who was a knight of the garter, 
and a lieutenant-general, was a name of distinguished merit in the 
wars in France in Henry the Fifth's and Henry the Sixth's times. 
What grace soever the Queen conferred upon him, it was not to her 
jnly he owed the fortune which the reputation of his wit made. 


tih Df IBiUinm ||]akBS|i!nrr. 

He had the honour to meet with many great and uncommon marks 
of favour and friendship from the Earl of Southampton, famous 
in the histories of that time for his friendship to the unfortunate 
Earl of Essex. It was to that noble lord that he dedicated his 
poem of Venus and Adonis. There is one instance so singular in 
the magnificence of this patron of Shakespeare's, that if I had not 
been assured that the story was handed down by Sir William 
D'Avenant, who was probably very well acquainted with hi a 
affairs, I should not have ventured to have asserted it; that my 
lord Southampton at one time gave him a thousand pounds, to 
enable him to go through with a purchase which he heard he had a 
mind to. A bounty very great, and very rare at any time, and 
almost equal to that profuse generosity the present age has shown 
to French dancers and Italian singers. 

"What particular habitude or friendships he contracted with 
privnte men. I have not been able to learn, more than that every 
one, who had a true taste of merit, and could distinguish men, had 
generally a just value and esteem for him. His exceeding candour 
and good nature must certainly have inclined all the gentler part of 
the world to love him, as the power of Lis wit obliged the men of 
the most delicate knowledge and polite learning to admire him. 

" His acquaintance with Ben Jonson began with a remarkable 
piece of humanity and good nature : Mr, Jonson, who was at that 
time altogether unknown to the world, had ofl^ired one of his plays 
to the players, in order to, have it acted; and the persons into 
whose hands it was put, after having turned it carelessly and 
superciliously over, were just about returning it to him with an ill- 
natured answer, that it would be of no use to their company; when 
Shakespeare luckily cast his eye on it, and found something so well 
in it, as to engage him first to read it through, and afterwards to re- 
commend Mr. Jonson and his writings to the public. Jonson was cer- 
tainly a very good scholar, and in that had the advantage of Shake- 
speare ; tliough at the same time I believe it must be allowed, that; 
what nature gave the latter, was more than a balance for what books 
had given the former; and the judgment of a great man upon this 
occasion was, I think, very just and proper. In a conversation 
between Sir John Suckling, Sir William d'Avenant, Endymion 
Porter, Mr. Hales, of Eton, and Ben Jonson ; Sir John Suckling, 
who was a professed admirer of Shakespeare, had undertaken hia 
defence against Ben Jonson with some warmth ; Mr. Hales, who 


i::if5 nf IBilUiiiii lljEkispirj. 

had sat still for some time, told them, That if Mr. Shakespeare had 
not read the ancients, he had likewise not stolen anytliiyig from them ; 
and that, if he would produce any one topic finely treated by any one of 
them, he would undertake to show something upon the same subject ai 
least as well written by Shakespeare.^^ 

The latter part of his life was spent, as all men of good sense 
will wish theirs may be, in ease, retirement, and the conversation 
of his friends. His pleasurable wit and good nature engaged him 
in the acquaintance, and entitled him to the friendship, of the 
gentlemen of the neighbourhood. Amongst them, it is a story, still 
remembered in that country, that he had a particular intimacy 
with Mr. Combe, an old gentleman noted thereabouts for his wealth 
and his usury: it happened, that in a pleasant conversation 
amongst their common friends, Mr, Combe told Shakespeare, in a 
laughing manner, that he fancied he intended to write his epitaph, 
if lie happened to outlive him ; and since he could not know what 
might be said of him when he was dead, he desired it might be done 
immediately : upon which Shakespeare gave him these four verses : 

" Ten in the hundred lies here ingraved, 

'Tis a hundred to ten his soul is not saved; 

If any man ask, Who lies in this tomb ? 

Oh ! ho ! quoth the devil, ^tis my John-a-Comhe." 

For some years before his death, he resided at Stratford, in a 
house which he bought from the Clopton family, and which con- 
tinued in the possession of his descendants until the Restoration, 
when it was repurchased by a member of the same family, the 
representative of which. Sir Hugh Clopton,^ entertained Garrick, 
Macklin, and others, in 1742, under the mulberry tree, planted by 
Shakespeare. His executor sold the house to a clergyman of the 
name of Gastrel, who being rated for the poor higher than he 
conceived he had a right to pay, peevishly declared that the house 
should never pay again ; and in spite to the inhabitants of Strat- 
ford, who were benefitted by the company it brought to the town, 
he pulled it down, and sold the materials. He had previously cut 
down the mulberry tree for fuel, but an honest silversmith purchased 
the whole of it, which he profitably manufactured into memorials of 
the poet. Such was the fate of a residence in which Shakespeare 
exhibited so little solicitude for fame, or consciousness of his own 
merits, that a similar example of modesty is scarcely to be found. 

5 i* 

tih nf IBilliain iljaltfS|iJiirt. 

He died on his birth-day, April 23, 1616, having exactly com- 
pleted his fifty-second year. He was interred on the north side of the 
chancel of the great church of Stratford, where a monument is placed 
on the wall, in which he is represented under an arch in a sitting 
posture, a cushion spread before him, with a pen in his right hand, 
and his left resting on a scroll of paper., The following Latin 
distich is engraved under the cushion : — 

" Judicio Pylium, genio Socratem, arte Maronem, 
Terra tegit, populus moeret, Olympus habet/' 

To this Latin inscription may be added the lines to be found 
underneath it : — 

"Stay, passenger, why dost thou go so fast? 
Read, if thou canst, what envious death hath placed 
Within this monument ; Shakespeare, with whom 
Quick nature died ; whose name doth deck the tomb 
Far more than cost ; since all that he hath writ 
Leaves living art but page unto his wit." 

This mohument was erected within seven years of his death ; but 
on his grave-stone beneath are written the following lines, which 
seem to have been engraven in an uncouth mixture of large and 
small letters, at the time of his interment : — 

" Good Friend for lesus SAKE forbeare 
To diaa T-E Dust EncloAsed HERe 
Blest be T-E Man y-t spares T-Es Stones 
And curst be He y-t moves my Bones '' 

It is uncertain whether this request and imprecation were written 
by Shakespeare, or by one of his friends. They probably allude to 
the custom of removing skeletons after a certain time, and deposit- 
ing them in charnel houses ; and similar execrations are found in 
many Latin epitaphs. Shakespeare's remains, however, have been 
ever carefully protected from injury. 

His family consisted of two daughters, and a son named Hamnet, 
who died in his twelfth year. Susannah, the eldest daughter, and 
her father's favourite, was married June 5, 1607, to Dr. John Hall, 
a physician, who died November, 1635, aged 60. Mrs. Hall died 
July 11, 1649, aged 66. They left only one child, Elizabeth, bora 

1607-8, and married April 22, 1626, to Thomas Nashe, Esq., who 
died in 1647, and afterwards to Sir John Barnard, of Abington, in 
Northamptonshire ; but died without issue by either husband. 
Judith, Shakespeare's youngest daughter, was married, February 
10, 1615-16, to a Mr. Thomas Quiney, and died, February, 1661-62, 
in her 77th year. By Mr. Quiney she had three sons, Shakespeare, 
llichard and Thomas, who all died unmarried, and here the 
descendants of our poet became extinct. 

In the year 1741, a monument was erected to the memoiy of the 
" immortal bard" in Westminster Abbey, by the direction of the 
Earl of Burlington, Dr. Mead, Mr. Pope, and Mr. Martyn. It was 
the work of Schoemaker, (who received £300 for it,) after a design 
of Kent, and was opened in January of that year, one hundred and 
twenty-five years after the death of him whom it commemorates, 
and whose genius appears to have been forgotten during almost the 
whole of that long period. The performers of each of the London 
theatres gave a benefit to defray the expenses, and the Dean and 
Chapter of Westminster took nothing for the ground. The money 
received by the performance at Drury-lane theatre amounted to 
above £200, but the receipts at Covent-garden did not exceed £100. 

From these imperfect notices, which are all we have been able to 
collect from the labours of his biographers and commentators, the 
reader will perceive that less is known of Shakespeare than of 
almost any writer who has been considered as an object of laudable 
curiosity. Nothing could be more highly gratifying than an ac- 
eount of the early studies of this wonderful man, the progress of 
his pen, his moral and social qualities, his friendships, his failiDgs, 
and whatever else constitutes personal history. But on all these 
topics his contemporaries and his immediate successors have been 
equally silent, and if aught can be hereafter discovered, it must be 
by exploring sources which have hitherto escaped the anxious re- 
searches of those who have devoted their whole lives, and their 
most vigorous talents, to revive his memory, and illustrate his 

Dr. Johnson, in his elaborate and just review of Shakespeare, 
observes, " He has scenes of undoubted and perpetual excellence, 
but perhaps not one play, which, if it were now exhibited as the 
work of a contemporary writer, would be heard to the conclusion. 
1 am indeed, (says he,) far from thinking that his works were 
wrought to his own ideas of perfection ; when they were such as 


Vfould satisfy the audience, they satisfied the writer. It 4s sel- 
dom that authors, though more studious of fame than Shake- 
speare, rise much above the standard of their own age ; to add a 
little to what is best will always be sufficient for present praise, 
and those who find themselves exalted into fame, are willing to 
credit their encomiasts, and to spare the labour of contending with 

The dramatic reputation of Shakespeare, although great in his 
own days, became partially obsolete during the period when French 
taste prevailed, and French models were studied, under the second 
Charles ; and rising again as it did on its own intrinsic pretension, 
until his productions established a national taste, the fact is still 
more honorable to his genius. That much of the admiration enter- 
tained for him is national and conventional, may be freely allowed ; 
but giving all due weight to the cold hints of this nature, which 
pervade criticism of a certain tone, a ftiir appeal may be made on 
the ground of positive qualification, and a knowledge of the human 
heart, which, in its diversity at least, has never been surpassed. 
To this faculty must be added, that of an imagination powerful, 
poetical, and so felicitously creative, that presuming the existence 
of the vivid ofi'spring of his fancy, the adopted feelings and manners 
seem to belong to them alone. 

Voltaire observes that Shakespeare has been the favourite of the 
English nation for more than a century ; and that that which haa 
engrossed national admiration for a hundred years, will by pre- 
scription insure it for ever. But though there may be some truth 
in th^s remark, the obvious and undeniable fact is, that great 
nativ* Urength of genius can alone establish the prepossession. 


itrnke^iiMran dt^untatiun^ 


ABILITY, Innate. 

There's in him stuff that puts him to these ends: 

For, being not propped by ancestry, whose grace 

Chalks successors their way; nor calFd upon 

Por high feats done to the crown ; neither allied 

To eminent assistants ; but spider-like, 

Out of his self-drawing web, he gives us note ; 

The force of his own merit makes his way ; 

A gift that heaven gives for him, which buys 

A place next to the king. jHl VIII. i. 1. 


I have this while with leaden thoughts been pressed ; 

But I shall, in a more continuate time, 

Strike off this score of absence. 0, iii. 4, 

- Lovers'. 

What ! keep a week away? seven days and nights ? 

Eight score eight hours, — and lovers' absent hours, — 

More tedious than the dial eight score times ? 

weary reckoning ! 0. iii. -L 

thou that dost inhabit in my breast. 

Leave not the mansion so long tenantless ; 

Lest growing ruinous the building fall, 

And leave no memory of what it was. T. G. v. 4 


ABU |lfakB3|ifarinH I)irtinDttri(. ado 

ABUSE, ANl) Bad English (See also Vituperation). 

Have I lived to stand at the taunt of one that makc^ 
fritters of English ? if. W. v. 5. 

Here will be an old abusing of God's patience and the 
king's English. M, W. i. 4 

Let them keep their limbs whole, and hack our English. 

M. W. iii. 4. 


To vouch this is no proof, 
Without more certain and more overt test, 
Than these thin habits, and poor likelihoods 
Of modern seeming do prefer against him. 0. i. 3. 


A very good piece of work, I assure you, and a merry, 

M.N. D. i. 1. 

Let it be booked with the rest of this day's deeds ; or I 
swear I will have it in a particular ballad, with mine own 
picture on the top of it. H. IK pt. ii. iv I 


Now doth thy honour stand, 
In him that was of late an heretic, 
As firm as faith. M. W. iv. 4, 

A.GTION, Dramatic. 

Let your own discretion be your tutor : suit the action to 
the word, and the word to the action; with this special 
observance, that you o'erstep not the modesty of nature : 
for any thing so overdone is from thfe purpose of playing, 
whose end, both at the first, and now, was, and is, to hold, 
as ^twere, the mirror up to nature ; to show virtue her own 
feature, scorn her own image, and the very age and body 
of the time his form and pressure: * * * 0, there be 
players, that I have seen play, — and heard others praise, 
and that highly, — not to speak it profanely, that, neither 
having the accent of Christians, nor the gait of Christian, 
Pagan, nor man, have so strutted, and bellowed, that I 
have thought some of nature's journeymen had made men, 
and not made them well, they imitated humanity so abomi- 
nably. H. iii. 2. 


'Tis often seen 
Adoption strives with nature ; and choice breeds 
A native slip to us from foreign seeds. A, W, i. 3. 

ADORATION, a Lover's. 

What yon do, 

ADO IjinhspnriiiD Dirtinniirif. adv 

ADOUATIO^,— continued. 

Still betters what is done. When you speak, sweet, 

rd have you do it ever : when you sing, 

I'd have you buy and sell so ; so give alms ; 

Pray so ; and, for the order of your affairs, 

To sing them too : When you do dance, I wish you 

A. wave o' the sea, that you might ever do 

Nothing but that ; move still, still so, and own 

No other function : Each your doing. 

So singular in each particular. 

Crowns what you are doing in the present deeds, 

That all your acts are queens. W, T, iv. 4. 

ADVERSITY (See also Misfortune). 

A man I am, cross'd with adversity. T, G. iv. 1. 

But myself. 
Who had the world as my confectionary ; 
The mouths, the tongues, the eyes, the hearts of men 
At duty, more than I could frame employment ; 
That numberless upon me stuck, as leaves 
Do on the oak, have with one winter's brush 
Fell from their boughs, and left me open, bare. 
For every storm that blows ; I, to bear this. 
That never knew but better, is some burden. T, A, iv. 3 
Such a house broke ! 

So noble a master fallen ! All gone ! and not 
One friend to take his fortune by the arm, 
And go along with him I T. A, iv. 2. 

— — ' — Folly of Repining at. 

What think'st 
That the bleak air, thy boisterous chamberlain, 
Will put thy shirt on warm ? Will these moist trees, 
That have out-lived the eagle, page thy heelsj. 
And skip when thou point'st out ? will the cold brook, 
Candied with ice, caudle thy morning taste. 
To cure thy o'er-night's surfeit? Call the creatures; 
Whose naked natures live in all the spight 
Of wreakful heaven ; whose bare unhoused trunks. 
To the conflicting elements exposed. 

Answer mere nature,— bid them flatter thee. T. A, iv. 3. 
- ITS Uses. 

Sweet are the uses of adversity, 

Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous, 

Wears yet a precious jewel in its head. A, T,n, 1. 

'Tis good for men to love their present pains, 
Upon example ; so the spirit is eas'd : 

ADv |liiikB0|iriiriiiH Sirtinimrtj. adv 

ADVERSITY, ^-continued. 

And, when the mind is quickened, out of doubt, 

The organs, though defunct and dead before, 

Break up their drowsy grave, and newly move 

AVith casted slough, and fresh legerity. B". F. iii. 1. 

In poison there is physic ; and these news 

Having been well, that would have made me siu'k ; 

Being sick, have in some measure made me well. 

And as the wretch whose fever-weaken'd joints, 

Like strengthless hinges, buckle under life, 

Impatient of his fit, breaks like a fire. 

Out of his keeper^s arms ; even so my limbs, 

WeakenM with grief, being now enrag'd with gri(3f, 

Are thrice themselves. H. IV, pt. ii. i. 1 . 

ADVICE (See also Caution). 

Fasten your ear to my advisings. if, M, iii 1. 

Obey thy parents ; keep thy word justly ; swear not ; 
commit not with man^s sworn spouse; set n( b thy sweet 
heart on proud array. K, L, iii 4. 

Take heed, be wary how you place your words. 

H, VL PT. I. iii. 2. 

Let go thy hold, when a great wheel runs down a hill, 
lest it break thy neck with following it ; but the great one 
that goes up the hill, let him draw thee after. When a 
wise man gives thee better counsel, give me mine again. 

K, L. ii. 4. 
Pray be counseled: 
I have, a heart as little apt as yours, 
But yet a brain, that leads my use of anger 
To better 'vantage. C. iii. 2. 

Love all, trust a few. 
Do wrong to none : be able for thine enemy 
Rather in power than use ; and keep thy friend 
Under thy own life's key: be checked for silence, 
But never tax'd for speech. A. W. i. 1 

Keep thy pen from lenders' books, and defy the fou? 
fiend. K. L. iii. 4. 

Let not the creaking of shoes, nor the rustling of bilks, 
betray thy poor h'^art to women. K. i. iii. 4. 

— TO A Young "Woman. 

Fear it, my dear sister ; 
And keep you in the rear of your affection, 
Out of the shot and danger of desire. 
The chariest maid is prodigal enough. 
If she unmask her beauty to the moon ; 


ADv ||jiikES|iEariiiE Birtinttuni. adu 

ADVICE, — continued. 

Virtue itself ^scapes not calumnious strokes : 

The canker galls the infants of the spring, 

Too oft before their buttons be disclosed ; 

And in the morn and liquid dew of youth 

Contagious blastments are most imminent. 

Be wary then ; best safety lies in fear ; 

Youth to itself rebels, though none else near. jET. i. 3^ 

— TO A Young Man. 

Give thy thoughts no tongue, 

Nor any unproportion'd thought his act. 

Be thou familiar but by no means vulgar. 

The friends thou hast, and their adoption tried, 

Grapple them to thy soul with hoops of steel : 

But do not dull thy palm with entertainment 

Of each unhatchM, unfledged comrade. Beware 

Of entrance to a quarrel: but, being in, 

Bear it that the opposer may beware of thee. 

Give ev'ry man thine ear, but few thy voice: 

Take each man's censure, but reserve thy judgment. 

Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy, 

But not expressed in fancy ; rich, not gaudy: 

For the apparel oft proclaims the man: — 

Neither a borrower nor a lender be : 

For loan oft loses both itself and friend ; 

And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry. 

This above all, — To thine own self be trae ; 

And it must follow, as the night the day. 

Thou canst not then be false to any man. 

Farewell : — my blessing season this in theo 1 51 i. 3. 

• TO A States.aian. 

Mark but my fall, and that that ruin'd me. 

Cromwell, I charge thee, fling away ambition ; 

By that sin fell the angels ; how can man then, 

The image of his Maker, hope to win by't ? 

Love thyself last ; cherish those hearts that hate thee ; 

Corruption wins not more than honesty. 

Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, 

To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not: 

Let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy country's. 

Thy God's, and truth's ; then if thou fall'st, Cromwell, 

Thou fall'st a blessed martyr. JI, VIIL iii. 2» 

ADULATION (See also Flattery). 

You shout me forth 
In acclamations hyperbolical ; 
As if I lov'd my little should be dieted 
lu praises sauc'd with lies. C, «. 

13 2 

AFF |liaItE0|rBiiriiiE l)irtinniirt[. age 

AFFECTED Speakers. 

These new tuners of accents. i?. /. ii. 4, 

AFFECTION (See Parental Affectioxx). 


Affliction is enamourM of thy parts, 

And thou art wedded to calamity. E. J. iii. 3 


The silver livery of advised age. H. YL pt. ii. v. 2. 

Do you set down your name in the scroll of youth, that 
are written down old, with all the characters of age ? Have 
you not a moist eye? a dry hand? a yellow cheek? a 
white beard? a decreasing leg? an increasing belly? Is 
not your voice broken? your wind short? your chin dou- 
ble? your wit single? and every part about yc u i (lasted 
with antiquity ? and will you yet call youvsclf \ -.-ri.- '■. 
fye, Sir John. H. 1 V\ \ r. u. i. 2. 

Youth no less becomes 
The light and careless livery that it wears, 
Than settled age his sables, and his weeds, 
Importing health and graveness. 11. iv. 7. 

Though now this grained face of mine be hid 

In sap-consuming winter's drizzled snow, 

And all the conduits of my blood froze up ; 

Yet hath my night of life some memory. 

My wasting lamp some fading glimmer left, 

Mj dull deaf ears a little use lo hear. C. E. v. 1. 

I would there were no age between ten and three-and- 
twenty ; or that youth would sleep out the rest ; for there 
is nothing between but wenching, wronging the ancientry, 
stealing, and fighting. W, T, iii. 3. 

His silver hairs 
Will purchase us a good opinion, 
And buy men's voices to commend our deeds : 
It shall be said his judgment ruF'd our han! ; 
Our youths, and wildness, shall no whit ai ; ir, 
"But all be buried in his gravity. /. C. ii. 1. 

As you are old and reverend you should bo wise. 

K L. i. 4. 

When age is in the wit is out. II. A, iii. 5. 

Jiecomes it thee to taunt his valiant age, 
And twit with cowardice a man half dead ? 

H. YL PT. I. iii. 2. 


AGE lljukEHpHriiiE iirtinEani. ama 

AGE AND Frailty. 

The blood of youth burns not with such excess 

As gravitj^s revolt to wantonness. X. L. v. 2. 

Thou should^st not have been old before thou had'st been 
wise. K. X. i. 5 . 

. ^ND Grief. 

I am old now, 
And these same crosses spoil me. K. L, v. 3. 

! grief hath chang'd me since you saw me last ; 

Aad careful hours, with Time's deformed hand, 

Hire written strange defeatures in my face. C. E, v. 1. 

AiTD Loquacity. 

TiW.' tedious old fools I E. ii. 2. 

Here u ;he heart of my purpose. Jf. W. ii. 2. 


A bond of air, strong as the axle-tree 
On wLji wv heaven rides, T, (7. i. 3. 


What st^ is this ? what tumult's in the heavens ? 
Whence v^'meth this alarum, and the noise? 

E, YL FT. I. i. 4 
What's tli/ business. 

That such <* hideous trumpet calls to parley 
The sleepcA.! of the house? M. ii. 3. 

Silence that dreadful bell, it frights the isle 
From its pi ;)riety. 0. ii. 3. 


Your highness' part 
Is to receive our duties : and our duties 
Are to your »*iirone and state, children and servants ; 
Which do bi*v what they should, by doing every thing 
Safe toward } ur love and honour. M, i. 4. 


But the chaages I perceived in the king and Camillo, 
were very notc»i of admiration : they seemed almost, with 
staring on one «.nother, to tear the cases of their eyes ; there 
was speech in tLeir dumbness, language in their very ges- 
ture ; they looked, as they had heard of a world ransomed, 
or one destroyed, A notable passion of wonder appeared ia 
them : but the wisest beholder, that knew no more but 
seeing, could not say if the importance were joy or sorrow : 
but in the extrei-iity of one it must be. W» T, v. 2* 


AMB lliahspttrittii Sittinnarit. amb 



The very substance of the ambitious is merely the shadow 
of a dream. //. ii. 2. 

I hold ambition of so airy and light a quality, /hat it ia 
but a shadow's shadow. y^ H, ii. 2. 

^Tis a common proof 
That lowliness is young ambition's ladder, 
AYhereto the climber upward turns his face ; 
But when he once attains the upmost round, 
•lie then unto the ladder turns his back, 
Looks in the clouds, scorning the base degrees 
By which he did ascend. /. C. ii. 4- 

Ye gods, it doth amaze me, 
A man of such a feeble temper should 
So get the start of the majestic world, 
And bear the palm alone. J. C. i. 2. 

"What see'st thou there ? King Henry's diadem, 
Enchas'd with all the honours of the world? 
If so, gaze on, and grovel on thy face. 
Until thy head be circled with the same. 
Put forth thy hand, reach at the glorious gold : — 
What, is't too short ? Pll lengthen it with mine : 
And, having both together heav'd it up. 
We'll both together lift our heads to heaven ; 
And never more abase our sight so low. 
As to vouchsafe one glance unto the ground, 

E. VI. PT. II. i. 2. 
That is a step, 
On which I must fall down, or else o'erleap, \J 
For in my way it lies. M, i. 4. 

I have no spur 
To prick the sides of my intent, but only 
Vaulting ambition, which o'erleaps itself, 
And fails on t'other side. M. i. 7. 

The devil speed him ! no man's pie is freed 
From his ambitious finger. H, VIII. i. 1. 

Follow I must, I cannot go before, 
While Glo'ster bears this base and humble mind. 
Were I a man, a duke, and next of blood, 
I would remove these tedious stumbling blocks, 
And smooth my way upon their headless necks. 

H. VI. PT. II. i. 2, 
Two stars keep not their motion in one sphere ; 
Nor can one England brook a double reign, 
Of Harry Percy and the Prince of Walos.^ 

H. IV. PT. n, V. 4. 

AMB IjmltBsparijin DirtiniiEn}. ang 

AyiBlTION,— continued. 

The noble Brutus 
Hath told you Csesar was ambitious t 
If it were so, it was a grievous fault ; 
And grievously hath Cossar answered it. /. C. iii. 2. 


People, and senators ! be not affrighted ; 

Fly not ; stand still : — ambition's debt is paid. J, C. iii. 1. 

ALLOY, Universal, in this Probationary Life. 
Unruly blasts wait on the tender spring, 

Unwholesome weeds take root with precious flowers ; 
The adder hisseth where the sweet birds sing ; 
What virtue breeds, iniquity devours. Poems, 


Let me say, Amen, betimes, lest the devil cross my prayer. 

M. V. iii. 1. 
AMENDMENT (See also Reform). 

God mend all. E. YIIL i. 3. 

ANCESTRY (See also Lineage). 

Look in the chronicles, we came in with Richard con- 
queror. 1\ S. Ind. 1 

ANGER (See also Fury— Rage). 
To be in anger is impiet}^. 

But who is man that is not angry. T. A, iii. 5. 

Never anger made good guard for itself. A. C. iv. 1, 

This tyger-footed rage, when it shall find 
The harm of nnscann'd swiftness, will, too late, 
Tie leaden pounds to his heels. C. iii. 1. 

Stay, my lord ! 
And let your reason with your choler question 
What ^tis you go about. To climb steep hills 
Requires slow pace at first. Anger is like 
A full hot horse, who, being allowed his way. 
Self mettle tires him. . H. YIIL i. 1. 

It were for me 
To throw my sceptre at the injurious gods ; 
To tell them that this world did equal theirs. 
Till they had stoFn our jewel, All's but naught ; 
Patience is sottish ; and impatience does 
Become a dog that's mad. A. C. iv. 13, 

Why, what a wasp-stung and impatient fool 

Art thou, to break into this woman's mood. H. IV. pt. i. i. 3. 

Now, by the ground that I am banish'd from, 

Well could I curse away a winter's night, 

isr •a . 

ANG IjittkispMiinit Sittrnnarti. ang 

ANGER, — continued. 

Though standins:; naked on a mountain top, 
Where biting cold would never let grass grow, 
And think it but a minute spent in sport. 

H. VL PT. II. iii. 2, 
Away to heaven, respective lenity, 

And fire-ey'd fury be my conduct now. R. J. iii. 1, 

What! drunk with choler? stay, and pause awhile. 

H, IV. PT. I. i. 3, 
A plague upon them ! wherefore should I curse them ? 
Would curses kill as doth the mnndrake's groan, 
I would invent as bitter-searching terms, 
As curst, as harsh, and horrible to hear, 
Delivered strongly through my fixed teeth, 
With full as many signs of deadly hate, 
As lean-faced Envy in her loathsome cave : 
My tongue should stumble in mine earnest words ; 
Mine eyes should sparkle like the beaten flint ; 
My hair be fix'd on end, as one distract ; 
Ay, every joint should seem to curse and ban : 
And even now my burdened heart would break, 
Should I not curse them. Poison be their drink ! 
Gall, worse than gall, the daintiest that they taste! 
Their sweetest shade, a grove of cypress trees ! 
Their chiefest prospect, murd'ring basilisks ! 
Their softest touch, as smart as lizards^ stings ! 
Their music, frightful as the serpent's hiss-; 
And boding screech-owls make the concert full ! 

K VI. PT. II. iii. 2. 
Be advis'd ; 

Heat not a furnace for your foes so hot. 
That it do singe yourself: we may out-run, 
By violent swiftness, that which we run at, 
And lose by over-runjiing. Know you not. 
The fire that mounts the liquor till't run o'er. 
In seeming to augment it, wastes it. Be advis'd. 

//. VIIL i. 1. 
0, that my tongue were in the thunder's mouth ! 
Then with a passion would I shake the world. K.J. iii, 4. 
I am about to weep ; but, thinking that 
We are a queen, (or long have dream'd so) certain, 
The daughter of a king, my drops of tears 
ril turn to sparks of fire. H. VIIL ii, 4. 

. O Cassius, you are yoked with a lamb 
That carries anger as the flint bears fire ; 
Who, much enforced, shows a hasty spark, 
And straight is cold again. J, C, iv. 3 


ANG lljEkESpBariiiii Dirt{ntiart(. ant 

ANGE R, — contmued. 

\n<rer's mv meat : I sup iipoii myself, 

And so shall starve with feeding. C, iv. 2 

But anger has a privilege. K. L. ii. 2 

By the gods 
You shall digest the venom of your spleen, 
Though it do split you : for, from this day f ;: t^i, 
I'll use you for my mirth, yea, for my laugl.t! r, 
When you are waspish. /. C. iv. 3. 


The pleasant'st angling is to see the fish 

Cut with her golden oars the silver stream, 

And greedily devour the treacherous bait. Jf. A. iii. 1. 

ANNOYANCE, Impertinent. 

The loose encounters of lascivious men. T. G. ii. 3. 


Definitively thus I answer you. J^. III. iii. 7 

Your answer, Sir, is enigmatical. M. A. v. 4, 

— ' , General. 

But for me, I have an answer will serve all men. 

A. W, ii. 2. 

Any man, that can write, may answer a letter. E. J. ii. 4. 


We'll set thee to school to an ant, to teach thee there's 
• no labouring in the winter. K. L. ii. 4. 


By the pricking of my thumbs. 

Something wicked this way comes. M. iv. 1. 

I smell it ; upon my life, it will do well. H. IV. pt. i. i. 3. 
Excellent 1 I smell a device. T. N. ii. 3 

A man may hear this shower sing in the wind. 

M, W. iii. 2, 
Great business must be wrought ere noon-; 
Upon the corner of the moon 
There hangs a vapourous drop profound ; 
I'll catch it ere it come to ground. M. iii. 5. 

I am giddy ; expectation whirls me round. 
The imaginary relish is so sweet. 
That it enchants my sense. T, C, iii. 2. 


What's to do ? 
Shall we go see the reliques of this town ? T. K, iii. 3. 


APo |liiikjg|iiiiriitii Sirtinnnrt{. app 


I have laboured for the poor gentleman, to the extremest 
shore of my modesty. M. M. iii. 2, 


What, shallthis speech he spoke for our excuse ? 

Or shall we on without apology. R. J. i. 4. 


This apoplexy is, as I take it, a kind of lethargy, an't 
please your lordship ; a kind of sleeping in the blood, a 
whoreson tingling. JI. IV, pt. ii. i. 2 


I do remember an apothecary,- — 
And hereabouts he dwells, — whom late I noted 
In tatter'd weeds, with overwhelming broT\ jj, 
Culling of simples ; meagre were his looks, 
Sharp misery had worn him to the bones : 
And in his needy shop a tortoise hung, 
An alligator stuff M, and other ski-ns 
Of ill-shap'd fishes ; and about his shelves 
A beggarly account of empty boxes. 
Green earthen pots, bladders and musty seeds. 
Remnants of packthread, and old cakes of roses, 
.Were thinly scatter^ to make up a show. 
Noting this penury, to myself I said, — 
An' if a man did need a poison now. 
Whose sale is present death in Mantua. 
Here lives a caitijff wretch would sell it him. it. /. v. 1 

APPARITION (See also Ghosts, Spirits). 

I have heard (but not believ'd) the spirits of the dc id 
May walk again : if such thing be, thy mother 
Appeared to me last night ; for ne'er was dream 
So like a waking. }V. T. iii. 3. 


And here I stand: — -judge, my masters. H. IV. pt, i. ii. 4. 

APPELLATIONS of Juvenile Endearment. 

Adoptedly ; as school-maids change their names 

By vain, though apt affection. M. .M. i. 5, 

APPLAUSE, Popular (See also Popularity, Mob). 
And there is such confusion in my powers, 
As, after some oration fairly spoke 
By a beloved prince, there doth appear 
Among the buzzing pleased multitude : 
Where every something being blent together, 
Turns to a wild of nothing Jf» F. iii. 2. 


App |liEltB0]iiiiriiiii |]{rtiniiiirt{. akm 


Heaven ! that I had thy head ! he has found the meaning. 

P. R i. 1. 

OF THE Worthless. 

Wisdom and goodness to the vile seem vile ; 

Filths savour but themselves. K. L. iv. 2. 


Your spirits shine through you. M. iii. 1. 

I cannot draw a cart, nor eat dried oats ; 

If it be man's work, I will do it. E. L. v. 3. 

ARDOUR, Military (See also AVar). 

let the hours be short, 
Till fields, and blows, and groans applaud our ppori . 

H. IK FT. I. i. 3. 


Forsooth, a great arithmetician. 0. i. 1 

ARMAMENT, Sailing. 

Thus with imagined wing our swift scene flies, 

In motion of no less celerity 

Than that of thought. Suppose that you have seen 

The well-appointed King at Hampton pier 

Embark his royalty, and his bravo fleet 

With silken streamers the young Phoebus fanning. 

Play with your fancies ; and in them behold. 

Upon the hempen tackle ship-boys climbing : 

Hear the shrill whistle which doth order give 

To sounds confus'd ; behold the threaden sails, 

Borne with the invisible and creeping wind, 

Draw the huge bottoms through the furrowM sea, 

Breasting the lofty surge : do but think. 

You stand upon the rivage, and behold 

A city on the inconstant billows dancing ; 

For so appears this fleet majestical, 

Holding due course to Ilarfteur. II. V. ii. clioru8» 

ARMY (See also War). 

A braver choice of dauntless spirits 
Than now the English bottoms have waft o'er, 
Did never float upon the swelling tide, 
To do offence and scath in Christendom. 
The interruption of their churlish drums 
Cuts off more circumstance: they are at hand. 
To parley, or to fight ; therefore prepare. K, J, \u 1, 

England, impatient of your just demands. 
Hath put himself in arms ; the adverse winds, 
Whose leisure I have staid, have given him time 

ARM IjniktspBarittn Birtiniiiin|. arr 

ARMY, — continued. 

To land his legions all as soon as I ? 

His marches are expedient to this town, 

His forces strong, his soldiers confident. K. J, ii. 1, 

Tell the Constable, 
We are but warriors for the working day ; 
Our gayness, and our gilt, are all be-smirch^'d 
With rainy marching in the painful fi^ild. 
There's not a piece of feather in our host, 
(Good argument I hope we shall not fly,) 
And time has worn us into slovenry : 

But, by the mass, our hearts are in the trim, H. V. iv. 3. 
Within a ken our army lies ; 
Upon mine honour, all too confident 
To give admittance to a thought of fear. 

H. IV. PT. II. iv. 1. 
All the unsettled humours of the land, — 
Rash, inconsiderate, fiery voluntaries, 
With ladies' faces, and fierce dragons' spleens, — 
Have sold their fortunes at their native homes, 
Bearing their birthrights proudly on their backs. 
To make a hazard of new fortunes here. K» J, ii. 1 

Remember who j^ou are to cope withal ; — 
A sort of vagabonds, rascals, and run-aways, 
A scum of Bretagnes, and base lackey peasants, 
AYhom their o'er-cloy'd country vomits forth 
To desperate ventures, and assur'd destruction. 

R. Ill V. 3. 
Big Mars seems bankrupt in their beggar'd host, 
And faintly through a rusty beaver peeps. 
The horsemen sit like fixed candlesticks, 
With torch-staves in their hands ; and their poor jades 
Lob down their heads, drooping the hides and hips ; 
The gum down-roping from their pale dead eyes ; ' 

And in their pale dull mouths the gymold bit 
Lies foul with chaw'd grass, still and motionless ; 
And their executors, the knavish crows, 
riy o'er thorn all, impatient for their hour. H. F. iv, 2. 

His army is a ragged multitude 
Of hinds and peasants, rude and' merciless. 

H. YL PT, Ji. iv. 4. 


It shall be done, I will arraign them straight; — 

Come, sit thou here, most learned justicer. K. JL. iii. 6. 


If I could speak so wisely under an arrest, I would send 


A.RR IjiakfspariiiE DirtinEEtii. .ass 

ARREST, — continued. * 

for certain of my creditors : and yet, to say tlie iriuh, I 
had as lief have the foppery of freedom, as the morality of 
imprisonment. M. M, i. 3. 

ART AND Nature. 

Nature is made better by no mean, 
But nature makes that mean ; so, o'er that art 
Which, you say, adds to nature, is an art 
That nature makes. W. T. iv. 3. 

This is an art 
Which does mend nature, — change it rather ; but 
The art itself is nature. W:T. iv. ::. 

ARTS, Forbidden. 

I therefore apprehend and do attach thoo. 
For an abuser of the world, a practiser 
Of arts inhibited, and out of warrant. (/. i. 2. 

ASPECT, Martial. 

Say, what's thy name ? 
Thou hast a grim appearance, and thy face 
Bears a command in't ; though thy tackle's torn 
Thou show'st a noble vessel. C. iv. 5. 

lie is able to pierce a corslet with his eye ; talks like a 
knell, and his hum is a battery. C. v. 4. 

' Sour. 

The tartness of his face sours ripe grapes. C, iv. 4. 


A high hope for a low having : God grant us patience ! 

L, L, i. 1. 
Sir, I lack advancement. H, iii. 2. 


Now, what a thing it is to be an ass ! Tit. And. iv. 2. 

that he wore here to write me down an ass ! but, mas- 
ters, remember that I am an ass ; though it be not written 
down, yet forget not that I am an ass. M. A. iv. 2. 

I do begin to perceive that I am made an ass. M. W. v. 5. 
If thou be'st not an ass, I am youth of fourteen. 

A.W.n. 3. 

With the help of a surgeon he might recover, and prove 

an ass. M. N, v. 1. 


Kill men i' the dark ! where are these bloody thieves ? 

(h V. 1. 

ASS |liEkES|iiiiriiiii Sirtintiarti. aus 


The mightiest space in fortune nature brings 

To join like likes, and kiss like native things. A, W. i. 1 


These earthly godfathers of heaven^s lights, 

That give a naroe to every fixed star, 
Have no more profit of their shining nights 

Than those that walk and w^ot not what they are. 
Too much to know, is to know nought but fame, 
And every godfather can give a name. L. L, i. 1. 


I have professed me thy friend, and I confess me knit 
thy deserving with cables of perdurable toughness. 

0. i. 3 

I have forsworn his company hourly, any time this two- / 
and-twenty years, and yet I'm bewitched with the rogue's V 
company. If the rascal have not given me medicines to 
make me love him, Pll be hanged ; it could not be else. 

IT.IF. PT. I. ii. 2 


Creakinaj my shoes on the plain masonry. A.W, ii. 1. 

Creaking my shoes on the plain masonry. 


Lend thy serious hearing to what I shall unfold. H. i. 5, 

Season your admiration for a while 

With an attent ear ; till I may deliver. 

Upon the witness of these gentlemen. 

This marvel to you. H. i. 2, 


But I can tell, that in each grace of these 

There lurks a still and dumb discoursive devil, 

That tempts most cunningly. T. C. iv. 4. 


This avarice, 

Sticks deeper ; grows with more pornicious root 

Than summer-seeding lust. M. iv. 3, 


I think oxen and wain-ropes cannot hale them together. 

T. N. iii. 2. 


Be opposite with a kinsman, surly with servants ; let thy 
tongue tang arguments of state ; put thyself into the trick 
of singuUxrity. T, N, iii. 4. 



AUT IjnikEHpnriiiii Uittiniiari]:* aut 


Five justices' hands to it, and authorities more than my 
pack will hold. W.T. iv. 3. 

AUTHOR (See also Poet, PtHYMSTER). 

Nay, do not wonder at it : you are made 

Ilather to wonder at the things you hear 

Than to work any. Will you rhyme upon't, 

And vent it for a mockery ? Cj/m. v. 3 

AUTHORITY (See also Office). 

place ! form ! 
How often dost thou with thy case, thy habit, 
Wrench awe from fools, and tie the wisest souls 
To thy false seeming. Blood, thou still art blood : 
Let's write good angel on the deviPs horn, 
Tis not the devil's crest. 3f. M. ii. 4. 

Thou hast seen a farmer's dog bark at a beggar, 
And the creature run from the cur: There, 
There, thou might'st behold the great image of authority : 
A dog's obeyed in office. K. L. iv. 6. 

Authority, though it err like others, 
Ilath yet a kind of medicine in itself, 
That skins the vice o' the top. M. M. ii. 2. 

I shall remember : 

When C^Bsar says, — Do this, it is perform'd. J. C, i: 2. 

Authority bears a credent bulk. 
That no particular scandal once can touch 
But it confounds the breather. M. M. iv. 4. 

AYho will believe thee, Isabel ! 
My unsoil'd name, the austereness of my life. 
My vouch against you, and my place i' the state, 
Will so your accusation overweigh. 
That you shall stifle in your own report, 
And smell of calumny. M. M. ii. 4 

0, he sits high, in all the people's hearts ; 
And that which would appear offence in us, 
llis countenance, like richest alchemy, 
Will change to virtue and to worthiness. /. C. i. 3. 

Well, I must be patient, there is no fettering of 
authority. A. W. ii. 3 

And though authority be a stubborn bear, yet he is oft 
led by the nose with gold. W.T. iv. 3. 

Thus Ciin the demi-god, Authority, 
Make us pay down for our offence by weight. M.M. i. 3 

■* Insolence of. 

Could g^-eat men thunder, 

25 3 

AUT lljiiktspariEii Btrtiniiartf. bat. 

AUTlIOniTY, —continued. 

As Jove himself does, Jove would ne'er be quiet ; 

For every pelting petty officer 

Would use his heaven for thunder ; nothing but thunder. 

Merciful heaven ! 

Thou rather, with thy sharp and sulphurous bolt, 

Split'st the unwedgeable and gnarled oak, 

Than the soft myrtle. 0, but man 1 proud man ! 

Dress'd in a little brief authority, 

Most ignorant of what he's most assured, 

His glassy essence, like an angry ape, 

Plays such fantastic tricks before high heaven 

As make the angels weep. M. M, ii. 2. 


Not yet on summer's death, nor on the birth 

Of trembling winter. W. T. iv. 3. 

BABBLER (See also Talker). 

Fie, what a spendthrift he is of his tongue ! T. ii. 1. 

Tut, tut, my lord, we will not stand to prate, 

Talkers are no good doers, be assur'd : 

We go to use our hands, and not our tongues. J?. ///. 1. o, 


Call you that backing your friends ? a plague upon such 
backing ! give me them that will face me. 

E. IV. TT. I. ii. 4. 

BilCKWARDNESS (See also Friends Cooling). 

Cousin, thou wast not wont to be so dull. E. III. iv. 2. 


Damnable, botli sides rogue. A, W. iv. 3. 

Abhorred slave ; 

Which any print of goodness will not take 

Being capable of all ill. T. i. 2. 

God keep the prince from all the pack of you ! 

A knot you are of damned blood-suckers. i?. III. iii. 3. 


I love a ballad but even too well ; if it be doleful matter 
merrily set down ; or a very pleasant thing indeed, and 
sung lamentably. W.T. iv. 3. 

Traduced by odious ballads. A.W. ii. 1. 


BAL IjjnkrHjiEiiriiiii Dirtiniuni- ban 

BALLADS, — continued. 

An I have not ballads made on you all, and sung to 
filthy tunes, let a cup of sack be my poison. 

H, IV. PT. II. ii. 2. 

I love a ballad in print a' life ; for then we are sure they 

are true. W, T. iv. 3. 

BALLAD-MONGERS (See also Poetry, Rhymsters). 
I had rather be a kitten, and cry, — mew, 
Than one of these same metre ballad-mongers : 
I had rather hear a brazen can'stick turnM, 
Or a dry wheel grate on an axletroe ;" 
And that would set my teeth nothing on edge, 
Nothing so much as mincing poetry ; 
'Tis like the forc'd gait of a shuffling nag. 

R. ri. PT. iii. 1. 

BALLAD-SINGER, Itinerant. 

master, if you did but hear the pedlar at the door, you 
would never dance again after a tabor and pipe ; no, the 
bag-pipe could not move you : he sings several tunes, faster 
than you'll tell money ; he utters them as he had eaten 
ballads, and all men's ears grow to their tunes. W. T. iv. 3. 


Banish'd, is banished from the world, 
And world's exile is death : then banish'd 
Is death misterm'd : calling death, — banishment, 
Thou culi'st my head off with a golden axe, 
And smil'st upon the stroke that murders me. R. J. iii. 3. 
Then England's ground, farewell ; sweet soil, adieu ; 
My mother, and my nurse, that bears me yet ! 
Where'er I wander, boast of this I can, — 
Though banish'd, yet a true-born Englishman. B. II. i. 3 

Banished ? 
friar, the damned use that word in hell ; 
Howlings attend it. i?. /. iii. 3. 

I've stoopt my neck under your injuries, 
And sigh'd my English breath in foreign clouds, 
Eating the bitter bread of banishment. E. II. iii. 1, 

Banish me ? 
Banish your dotage ; banish usury, 
That makes the senate ugly. T. A. iii. 5. 


AVith that, all laugh'd, and clapp'd him on the shoulder ; 

Making the bold wag, by their praises, bolder : 

One rubb'd his elbow, thus ; and fleer'd, and swore, 

A better speech was never heard before. L, L. v. % 


BAN |-li{ilti!5|iBnriii!i Bitiiiiiiiin(. bat 

BANTERING.— co?i;^wme(^. 

Close, in the name of jesting I T. N, ii. 5. 

— Girls. 

The tongues of mocking wenches are as keen 

As is the razor's edge invisible, 
Cutting a smaller hair than may be seen ; 

Above the sense of sense : so sensible 
Seemeth their conference ; their conceits have wings, 
Fleeter than arrows, bullets, wind, thought, swifter things. 

L. X. V. 2. 


Base and unlustroiis as the smoky light 

That's fed with stinking tallow. Cym, i. 7 

You shall mark 
Many a duteous and knee-crooking knave. 
That, doting on his own obsequious bondage, 
Wears out his time, much like his master's ass, 
For nought but provender, and, when he's old, cashier'd ; 
Whip me such honest knaves. 0. i. 1. 

Some kinds of baseness 
Are nobly undergone ; and most poor matters 
Point to rich ends. T. iii. 1. 


Bastard instructed, bastard in mind, bastard in valour ; 
in every thing. illegitimate. T, C. v. 8. 

Why bastard ? wherefore base ? 
When my dimensions are as well compact. 
My mind as generous, and my shape as true, 
As honest madam's issue ? K, L. i, 2. 

Ila ! Fie, these filthy vioes ! It were as good 

To pardon him that hath from nature stolen 

A man already made, as to remit 

Their saucy sweetness, that do coin heaven's image 

In stamps that are forbid : 'tis all as easy 

Falsely to take away a life true made, — 

As to put mettle in restrained means, . 

To make a false one W. M. ii. 4. 

Fine word, — legitimate ! 
Well, my legitimate, if this letter speed. 
And my invention thrive, Edmund the base 
Shall top the legitimate. I grow: I prosper: — 
Now, gods, stand up for bastards. K. L. i. 2. 


Because I will not do them the wrong to mistrust any, I 


BAT Ijnihspfiiriiiii iittiniiart[. bat 

'BATCllELOll,— continued. 

will do mysolf the right to trust none ; and the fine is, for 
the which I may go the finer, I will live a batchelor. 

if. A. i. 1. 
Shall I never see a batchelor of three score again ? 


's Kecantation. 

When I said I would. die a batchelor, I did not think I 
should live till I were married. M. A. ii. 3. 

BATTLE (See also War). 

With boisterous untun'd drums, 
And harsh resounding trumpets' dreadful bray, 
And grating shock of wrathful iron arms. B. IL i. 3. 

Being mounted, and both roused in their seats, 
Their neighing coursers daring of the spur. 
Their armed staves in charge, their beavers down, 
Their eyes of tire sparkling through sights of steel, 
And the loud trumpet blowing them together. 

H. IV. PT. II. iv. 1 

Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more ; 

Or close the wall up with our English dead ! 

In peace, there's nothing so becomes a man, 

As modest stillness and humility: 

But when the blast of vrar blows in our ears, 

Then imitate the action of the tyger ; 

Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood. 

Disguise fair nature with hard-favour'd rage : 

Then lend the eye a terrible aspect : 

Let it pry through the portals of the head. 

Like the brass cannon ; let the brow o'erwhelm it 

As fearfully as doth the galled rock 

O'er-hang and jutty his confounded base, 

Swill'd with the wild and wasteful ocean. 

Now set the teeth and stretch the nostrils wide, 

Hold hard the breath, and bend up every spirit 

To his full height ! On, on, you noble English. H. Y, ii. 1. 

A thousand hearts are great within my bosom : 
) Advance our standards ; set upon our foes ! 

Oar ancient word of courage, fair St. George, 
Inspires us with the spleen of fiery dragons ! 
Upon them ! R. TIL v. 3. 

Fight, ffentlemen of England ; fight boldly, yeomen ; 
Draw, archers, draw your arrows to the head. 
Spur your proud horses hard, and ride in blood: 
Amaze the welkin with your broken staves. H. Ilh v. 3. 
29 •» 

BAT lljElviniitatiati Dirtiniiiirt|* bat 


This battle fiires like to the morning's war, 

When dying clouds contend with growing light; 

What time the shepherd blowing of his nails, 

Can neither call it perfect day, or night. 

Kow sways it this way like a mighty sea, 

Forced by the tide to combat with the wind ; 

Now sways it that way, like the self-same sea, 

Forc'd to retire by fury of the wind : 

Sometimes the flood prevails ; and then the wind : 

Kow, one the better ; then, another best ; 

Both tugging to be victors, breast to breast, 

Yet neither conqueror nor conquered : 

So is the equal poize of the fell war. H. VL pt. hi. ii. 5 . 

My uncles both are slain in rescuing me ; 

And all my followers to the eager foe 

Turn back, and fly, like ships before the wind, 

Or lambs pursued by hunger-starved wolves. 

My sons, — God knows, — what hath bechanced them : 

Ikit this I know, — they have demeaned themselves 

Like men borne to renown, by life, or death. 

Three times did Richard make a lane to me ; 

And thrice cried, — Courage, father ! Fight it out ! 

And full as oft came Edward to my side 

"With purple faulchion, painted to the hilt 

In blood of those that had encountered him. 

And when the hardest warriors did retire, 

llichard cried, — Charge ! and give no foot of ground! 

And cried, — A crown, or else a glorious tomb I 

A sceptre I or an earthly sepulchre ! 

With this, we charg'd again. H. VL pt. hi. i. 4, 

Never did captive with a freer heart 

Cast off his chains of bondage, and embrace 

Ilis golden uncontroU'd enfranchisement, 

MoYQ than my dancing soul doth celebrate 

This feast of battle with mine adversary. B. IT. i. 3 

Let each man do his best : and here draw I 
A sword, whose temper I intend to stain 
With the best blood that I can meet withal, 
In the adventure of this perilous day. 
Now, — Esperance !' Percy ! — and set on. 
Sound all the lofty instruments of war, 
And by that music let us all embrace : 
For heaven to earth, some of us never shall 
A second time do such a courtesy. H. IV. pt. i. v. 2 

Heaven in thy good cause make thee prosperous ! 
Be swift like lightning in the execution ; 

BAT lljakEspartttii BirtinEan);. bat 

BATTLE, — continued. 

And let thy blows, doubly redoubled, 

Fall like amazing thunder on the casque 

Of thy amaz'd pernicious enemy. B. II. i. 3. 

In single opposition, hand to hand, 

He did confound the best part of an hour 

In changing hardiment with great Glendower : 

Three times they breath'd, and three times did they drink, 

Upon agreement, of swift Severn's flood ; 

Who then affrighted with their bloody looks, 

Han fearfully among the trembling reeds. 

And hid his crisp head in the hollow bank, 

Blood-stained with these valiant combatants. 

H. ir. PT. 1. 1. 3. 

Prepare you, generals : 

The enemy comes on in gallant show; 

Their bloody sign of battle is hung out, 

And something to be done immediately. J. C. v. 1. 

We few, we happy few, we band- of brothers 

For he, to-day, that sheds his blood with me. 

Shall be my brother ; be he ne'er so vile, 

This day shall gentle his condition : 

And gentlemen in England now abed 

Shall think themselves accurs'd, they were not here ; 

And hold their manhoods cheap, while any speaks, 

That fought with us upon St. Crispin's day. M. V. iv. 3, 

For the love of all the gods, 
Let's leave the hermit pity with our mothej-s ; 
And when we have our armours -buckled on. 
The venom'd vengeance ride upon our swords. T. C. v. 3. 

Let^s whip these stragglers o^er the seas again ; 
Lash hence these over-weening rags of France, 
These famish'd beggars, weary of their lives ; 
Who, but for dreaming on this fond exploit. 
For want of means, poor rats, had hang'd themselves. 

11, III V. 3. 
I'll lean upon one crutch, and fight with the other. 
Ere stay behind this business. C, i. 1, 

OF Agincourt, Preparations for the. 

Now entertain conjecture of a time,' 
When creeping murmur and the poring dark, 
Fill the wide vessel of the universe. 
From camp to camp, through the foul womb of night, 
The hum of either army stilly sounds. 
That the fixed sentinels almost receive 
The secret whispers of each other's watch ; 

BAT IjiiiIvBspiiriiiii DitiiDDiirtj;. bea 

BATTLE,— continued. 

Fire answers fire ; and through their paly flames, 

Each battle sees the other's umbered face : 

Steed threatens steed in high and boastful neighs, 

Piercing the night's dull ear ; and from the tents. 

The armourers accomplishing the knights, 

With busy hammers closing rivets up, 

Give dreadful note of preparation. 

The country cocks do crow ; the clocks do toll. 

And the third hour of drowsy morning name. 

Proud of their numbers, and secure in soul, 

The confident and over-lusty French 

Do the low-rated English play at dice ; 

And chide the cripple tardy-gaited night, 

Who, like a foul and ugly witch, doth limp 

So tediously away. The poor condemned English, 

Like sacrifices by their watchful fires 

Sit patiently, and inly ruminate 

The morning's danger ; and their gestures sad, 

Investing lank-lean cheeks, and war-worn coats, 

Presenteth them unto the gazing moon 

So many horrid ghosts. H, V, iv. cTior 


He that hath a beard is more than a youth : and he that 
hath none, is less than a man. M. A, ii. 1. 

Now, Jove, in his next commodity of hair, send thee a 
beard I T. K iii. 1. 


This gallant pins the wenches on his sleeve ; 
•Had he been Adam he had tempted Eve : 
lie can carve too, and lisp : Why this is he. 
That kiss'd away his hand in courtesy ; 
This is the ape of form, monsieur the nice, 
That when he plays at tables, chides the dice 
In honourable terms. L. L, v. 2. 

BEAUX, Scented. 

Like many of these lisping hawthorn buds, that come 
like women in men's apparel, and smell like Bucklersbury 
in simple-time. M. W, iii. 3, 

BEAUTY. ^ \ 

Beauty is but a vain and doubtful good, 

A shining gloss that vadeth suddainly, 
A flower that dies^ when first it 'gins to bud, 

A brittle glass that's broken presently. 
A doubtful good, a gloss, a glass, a flower, 
Lost, vaded, broken, dead, within an hour. Poems, 


BEA Ijjnltispiitiiiii BirtiniiEn}. bea 

'BJ!:^A'UT.Y, —continued. 

By Jupiter, an angel ! or, if not, 

An earthly paragon ! Cym. iii. 6. 

A'd hermit, five score winters worn, 

Might shake off fifty looking in her e^^e. L. L, iv. 3. 

The most peerless piece of earth, I think. 
That e'er the sun shone bright on. W.T. v. 1. 

'Tis beauty truly blent, whose red. and white 
Nature's own sweet and cunning hand laid on : 
Lady, you are the cruellest she alive. 
If you will lead these graces to the grave, 
And leave the world no copy. T. N, i. 5. 

There's nothing ill can dwell in such a temple. T. i. 2. 

Iler sunny locks 
Hang on her temples like a golden fleece. M. F. i. 1. 

As plays the sun upon the glassy streams ; 

Twinkling another counterfeited beam, 

So seems this gorgeous beauty to mine eyes. 

H. VL PT. I. V. 3. 
This is such a creature, 

Would she begin a sect, might quench the zeal 
Of all professors else ; make proselytes 
Of who she but bid follow. W.T, v. 1. 

I saw her once 
Hop forty paces through the public street 
And having lost her breath, she spoke, and panted, 
That she did make defect perfection, 
And, breathless, power breathe forth. A. C. ii. 2. 

All hearts in love use their own tongues ; 
Let every eye negociate for itself, 
And trust no agent ; for beauty is a witch, 
Against whose charms faith melteth into blood., M. A. ii. 1. 

She speaks : — 

speak again, bright angel ! for thou art 

As glorious to this night, being o'er my head, 

As is a winged messenger of heaven 

Unto the white-upturned wond'ring eyes 

Of mortals, that fall back to gaze on him, 

When he bestrides the lazy-pacing clouds, 

And sails upon the bosom of the aii:. E, /. ii. 2. 

she .doth teach the torches to burn bright ! 

Her beauty hangs upon the cheek of night 

Like a rich jewel in an Ethiop^s ear ; 

Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear. It, J. i. 5. 


BEA lljaktspariiitt l)irtiniian[. bed 


Beauty is bought by judgment of the eye, 

Not utter'd t^y base sale of chapmen's tongues. L. L. ii. 1. 

She's a most exquisite lady. . 0. ii. 3, 

She's beautiful ; and therefore to be woo'd : 

She is a woman ; therefore to be won. H. VI. ft. i. v. 3. 

It shall be inventoried ; and every particle, and utensil, 
labelled to my will ; as, i7em, two lips, indifferent red ; 
iie7n, two grey eyes, with lids to them ; itenif one neck, one 
chin, and so forth. T, iV. i. 4. 

I know a wench of excellent discourse, 
Pretty, and witty ; wild, and yet, too, gentle. C. E. iii. 1, 
Beauty provoketh thieves sooner than gold. '^jA.Y, i. 3. 

There was never yet fair woman but she made mouths 
in a glass. K, L. iii. 2. 

When in the chronicle of wasted time, 

I see descriptions of the fairest wights, 
And beauty making beautiful old rime, 

In praise of ladies dead, and lovely knights, 
Then in the blazon of sweet beauty's best, 

Of hand, of foot, of lip, of eye, of brow, 
I see their antique pen would have expressed , 

Even such a beauty as you master now. Poems. 

AND Deceit. 

serpent heart, hid with a flowering face ! 

Did ever dragon keep so fair a cave ? 

Beuutiful tyrant 1 fiend angelical ! 

Dove-feather' d raven I wolvish-ravening lamb ! 

Despised substance of divinest show ! 

Just opposite to what thou justly seem'st, 

A damned saint, ah honourable villain ! — 

0, nature ! — what had'st thou to do in hell. 

When thou didst bower the spirit of a fiend 

In mortal paradise of such sweet flesh ? 

Was ever book, containing such vile matter, 

So fairly bound ? 0, that deceit should dwell 

In such a gorgeous palace 1 i?. /. iii. 2. 

beauty ! where'a thy faith 1 T, C, v. 2. 

AND Honesty. 

Honesty coupled to beauty, is to have honey sauce to 

sugar. ' A. V. iii. 3 

BEDLAM Beggars. 

The country gives me proof and precedent 
Of Bedlam beggars, who, with roaring voices. 
Strike in their numb'd and mortified bare arms, 

BED Ijnik^gpuriim DirtiEtiartf. beg 

BEDLAM Beggars, — continued. 

Pins, wooden pricks, nails, sprigs of rosemary ; 
And with this horrible object, from low farms, 
Poor pelting villages, sheep cotes, and mills, 
Sometimes with lunatic bans, sometimes with prayers, 
Inforce their charity. K, L, ii. 3.. 


So work the honey bees ; 
Creatures, that by a rule in nature teach 
The art of order to a peopled kingdom. 
They have a king, and officers of sorts ; 
"Where some, like magistrates, correct at home; 
Others, like merchants, venture trade abroad ; 
Others, like soldiers, armed in their stings, 
Make boot upon the summer's velvet buds ; 
Which pillage they with merry march bring home, 
To the tent-royal of their emperor ; 
Who, busied in his majesty, surveys 
The singing masons building roofs of gold ; 
The civil citizens kneading up the honey ; 
The poor mechanic porters crowding in 
Their heavy burdens at his narrow gate ; 
The s-ad-ey'd justice, with his surly hum, 
Delivering o'er to executors pale 
The lazy yawning drone. JET, f i. 2. 


The adage must be verified, 

That beggars mounted, run their horse to death. 

H, VL PT. 111. i. 4. 

Well, whiles I am a beggar, I will rail, 

And say, — there is no sin, but to be rich ; 

And being rich, my virtue then shall be, 

To say, — there is no vice but beggary. K, L ii. 2. 

What ! a young knave, and beg ! Is there not wars ? is 
there not employment ? Doth not the king lack subject^? 
Do not the rebels need soldiers ? Though it be a shame to 
be on any side but one, it is worse shame to beg than to be 
on the worst side, were it worse than the name of rebellion 
can tell how to make it. H, IV, pt. ii. i. 2. 

Speak with me, pity me, open the door, 

A beggar begs that never begged before. E, IL v. 3. 

You taught me first to beg ; and now, methinks. 
You teach me how a beggar should be answered. 

jf.r, iv 1 

BEG |liiiItBS|ifiiriiin 5irtinitErt[. "bir 


Rogues, hence, avaunt ! vanish like hailstones, go ! 
Trudge, plod, away, o^ th' hoof; seek shelter, pack! 

M. W. I 3. 
Hag-seed, hence ! T, i. 2. 

BENEDICTION (See also Salutation). 

The benediction of these covering heavens 

Fall on their heads like dew ! Cj/m, v. 5. 

May he live ! 
Longer than I have time to tell his years ! 
Ever belov'd, and loving may his rule be ! 
And when old Time shall lead him to his end, 
Goodness and ho fill up one monument 1 M. VIII. ii. 1- 

Bless thy five wits. K. L. iii. 4 

— Parental. 

And make me die a good old man ! 
That is the butt end of a mother's blessing ; 
I marvel that her grace did leave it out. R, III. ii. 2 

— • Military. 

Now the fair goddess, Fortune, 
Fall deep in love with thee ; and her great, cliarms 
Misguide thy opposers^ swords I Bold gentleman, 
Prosperity be thy page ! (7. i. 5. 

All the gods go with you ! upon your sword 

Sit laureird victory ! and smooth success 

Be strewM before your feet. A,C. 1.3. 

Mars dote on you for his novices. A» W, ii. 1. 

BEWAILINGS (See also Lamentation). 

Where thou didst vent thy groans 
As fast as mill-wheels strike. T, i. 2 


What care these roarers for the name of* king ? T.i.l 


I long 
To hear the story of your life, which must 
Take the ear strangely. T. v. 1. 

BIRDS, Encaged. 

Such a pleasure as incaged birds 
Conceive, when, after many moody thoughts, 
At last, by notes of household harmony, 
They quite forget their loss of liberty. 

H. YL FT. III. iv. 6. 

(^LA» IjjKkBspurinE Birtinimnf, blu 


Black, forsooth, coal black as jet. H. VI. pt. ii. ii. 1. 

Coal black is better than another hue, 

In that it scorns to bear another hue. . Tit. And. iv. 3. 

xVU the water in the ocean 

Can never turn a swan's black legs to white, 

Although she lave them hourly in the flood. Tit. And. iv. 2. 

Black is the badge of hell, 
The hue of dungeons, and the scowl of night. L. L. iv. 3. 


You shall not sin, 
If you do say, we think him over proud, 
And under honest. T. C. ii. 3. 


In nature, there's no blemish but the mind ; 

None can be called deformed but the unkind : 

Virtue is beauty ; but the beauteous-evil empty trunks, o'er-flourished by the devil. T. iV. iii. 4. 

Bead not my blemishes in the world's report: 

1 have not kept my square ; but that to come 

Shall all be done by the rule. A. C. ii. 3. 

BLOT (See also Stain). 

Mark'd with a blot, damn'd in the book of heaven. 

E. II. iv. 1. 


This is some fellow, 
Who, having been prais'd for bluntness, doth affect 
A saucy roughness ; and constrains the garb 
Quite from his nature. He can't flatter, he ! — 
An honest man and plain, — he must speak truth : 
An they will take it, so ; if not, he's plain. 
This kind of knaves I know, which in this plainness, 
Harbour more craft, and more corrupter ends 
Than twenty silly ducking observants, 
That stretch their duties nicely. K. L. ii. 2. 

I am no orator as Brutus is : 
But, as you know me all, a plain blunt man. 
That love my friend ; and that they know full well 
That gave me public leave to speak of him. 
For I have neither wit, nor words, nor worth, 
Action, nor utterance, nor the power of speech, 
To stir men's blood : I only speak right on. /. C. iii. 2» 


The heart's meteors tilting in the face. C. E. iv. %, 

ST 4 

BLu llmlvBspiiriiiii Birtinnnni, -boo 

FLUSHES,— continued. 

Now, if you can blush, and cry guilty, cardinal, 
You^l show a little honesty. E.VIIL iii. 2 

And bid the cheek be ready with a blush, 
Modest as inorning when she coldly eyes 
The youthful Phoebus. T. C. i. 3. 

Come, quench your blushes ; and present yourself that 
which you are, the mistress of the feast. * W.T,\^.Z, 


And topping all others in boasting. (7. ii. I. 

0, Sir, to such as boasting show their scars, 
A mock is due. T. C, iv. 5. 

AYhy, Valentine, what Braggardism is this 1 T. C. ii. 4. 


What I think, I utter ; and spend my malice in my breath. 

■ C. ii. 1. 
Think'st thou that duty shall have dread to speak, 
When power to flattery bows ? To plainness honour's bound. 
When majesty stoops to folly. K, L* i. 1. 


We'll have a swashing and a martial outside ; 

As many other mannish cowards have. 

That do outface it with their semblances. A. F. i 3, 


These signs have marked me extraordinary, 

And all the courses of my life do show 

I am not in the roll of common men. H. IV. pt. i. iii. 1. 

BONDS (See also Inflexibility). 

I'll have my bond ; speak not against my bond : 
I have sworn an oath, that I will have my bond. 

if.F. iii. 3. 

BONES, Human. 

Chapless, and knocVd about the mazzard with a sexton's 
spade : Here's a fine revolution, an' we had the trick to 
see't! M. y. 1. 


Thou art bought and sold, among those of any wit, like 
a Barbarian slave. T. C. ii. 1. 

BOOKS, Consolation of. 

Come, and take choice of all my library, 

And so beguile thy sorrow. Tit. And. iv. 1. 


BOO lljaltopariEU SirtinDiinf, bra 


That book, in many's eyes doth share the glorj, 

That in gold clasps, locks in the golden story. JK. /. L 3. 


Small haye continual plodders ever won 

Save base authority from others^ books. L. L. i. 1, 


Timon is shrunk indeed ; 
And he, that's once denied, will hardly speed, T. A, iii. 2. 

I can get no remedy against this consumption of the 
purse ; borrowing only lingers and lingers it out, but the 
disease is incurable. H, IV. ft. ii. i. 2. 


'Tis pity bounty had not eyes behind ; 

That man might ne^er be wretched for his mind. 

Magic of bounty ! all these spirits thy power 
Hath conjured to attend. T, ^. i. 1, 

For his bounty, 
There was no winter in^t ; an autumn 'twas, 
That grew the more by reaping, A» C, v. 2, 

No villainous bounty yet hath passed my heart ; 
Unwisely, not ignobly, have I given. T. A. ii. 2. 


Even so ; 

As with a man by his own alms empoison'd, 

And with his charity slain. C. v. 5. 


A mad-cap ruffian, and a swearing Jack, 

Q'hat thinks with oaths to face the matter out. T. S. ii. 1. 

I know them, yea, 
And what they weigh, even to the utmost scruple ; 
Scambling, out-facing, fashion-mong'ring boys, 
That lie, and cog, and' flout, deprave, and slander, 
Go anticly, and show an outward hideousness, 
And speak off half a dozen dangerous words, 
IIow they might hurt their enemies if they durst ; 
And this is all. M. A, v. L 

He speaks plain cannon, fire, and smoke, and bounce ; 
He gives the bastinado with his tongue ; 
Our ears are cudgelFd ; not a word of his, 
But buffets better than a fist of France ; 
Zounds I I was never so bethump^d with words. K. J, ii. 2, 


BKA iliEk!3]iiaria!i Birtinnar^. biu 

BRAGGARTS,— con^mwecZ. 

Who knows himself a braggart, 
Let him fear this ; for it will come to pass 
That every braggart shall be found an ass. A. W. iv. 3 

AVhat cracker is this same, which deafs our ears 
With this abundance of superfluous breath ? K. J. ii. 1 

Here's a large mouth, indeed, 
That spits forth death, and mountains, rocks and seas ; 
Talks as familiarly of roaring lions, 
As maids of thirteen do of puppy dogs. X, J. ii. 2 

What art thou ? Have not I 
An arm as big as thine ? a heart as big? 
Thy words, I grant, are bigger ; for I wear not 
My dagger in my mouth. Cym, iv. 2. 


Not Hercules 
Could have knock'd out his brains, for he had none. 

C)/m. iv. 2. 

Hector shall have a great catch, if he knock out either 

of your brains ; a^ were as good crack a fusty nut with 

no kernel. T, C. ii. 1. 


Swords out, and tilting one at other^s breast, 
In opposition bloody. 0. ii. 3. 

I pray you to serve Got; and keep you out of prawls and 
prabbles, and quarrels, and dissentions, and, I warrant you, 
it is the petter for you. H. V. iv. 8. 

What's the matter, 
That you unlace your reputation thus. 
And spend your rich opinion for the name 
Of a night brawler ? 0. ii. 3. 

Help, masters ! — Here's a goodly watch, indeed. 0. ii. 3. 


Highly fed, and lowly taught. A. W. ii. 1. 


Therefore, — since brevity is the soul of wit, 

And tediousness the limbs and outward flourishes, 

I will be brief. H. ii. 2. 


Shall we now 
Contaminate our fingers with base bribes ? 
And sell the mighty space of our large honours, 
Tor so much trash as may be grasped thus ? 


BRi |l}iikBH|iEiiriiiii BirtimiHrtf/ but 

BmBERY,— continued. 

I had rather be a dog and bay the moon, 

Than such a Koman. J. C. iv. 3. 

You yourself 
Are much condemned to have an itching palm ; 
To sell and mart your offices for gold, 
To undeservers. /. C, iv. 3. 

BRITAIN (See also England). 
Britain is 
A world by itself; and we will nothing pay 
For wearing our own noses. Ci/m. iii. 1. 

Which stands 
As Neptune's park, ribbed and paled in 
With rocks unscaleable, and roaring waters. Ci/m. iii. 1. 

I' the world's volume, 
Our Britain is as of it, but not in it ; 
In a great pool, a swan's nest. Cym. iii. 4. 

BROILS, Domestic. 

Wars are no strife 
To the dark house, and the detested wife. A. W. ii. 3. 


This was the noblest Roman of them all ; 

All the conspirators, save only he, 

Did that they did in envy of great Cassar ; 

He, only, in a general honest thought, 

And common good to all, made one of them. 

Ilis life was gentle ; and the elements 

So mix'd in him, that Nature might stand up 

And say to all the world : This was a man ! J". (7. v. 5 


The earth hath bubbles, as the water hath, 

And these are of them. M. i. 3 

On my life, my lord, a bubble. A. W. iii. 6 


Sometimes he angers me, 
With telling me of the mold-warp, and the ant. 
Of the dreamer Merlin, and his prophecies ; 
And of a dragon and a Unless fish, 
A clip-wing'd griffin, and a moulten raven, 
A couching lion, and a rampant cat, 
And such a deal of skimble-skamble stuff 
As puts me from my faith. I'll tell you what,— - 
He held me, but last night, at least nine hours, 
In reckoning up the several devils' names, 

BUT IjmftBsputiiiti Sirtinuartf, cap 

BVTTOl^ -IIOUWM,— continued. 

That were his hickej-s: I cried — humph, — and well — go to— 

But mark'd him not a word. he's as tedious 

As is a tired horse, a railing wife : 

Worse than a smoky house : I had rather live 

AYith cheese and garlick, in a windmill, far, 

Than feed on cates, and have him talk to me, 

In any summer-house in Christendom. H. IV, pt. i. iii. 1. 


I do not like hut yet, it does allay 

The good precedence ; fie upon hut yet ; 

Bat yet is as a jailer to bring forth 

Some monstrous malei^ictor. Pr'ythee, friend, 

Pdur out the pack of matter to mine ear, 

The 2;ood and bad topfether. A. C, ii. 5, 

CALUMNY (See also Slander.) 

Back-wounding calumny 
The whitest virtue strikes. M, M, iii. 2. 

Be thou as chaste as ice, as pure as snow, thou 

Shalt not escape calumny. H, iii. 1. 

That thou art blamM, shall not be thy defect, 

For slander's mark was ever yet the fair. Poems, 


Speak of me as I am ; nothing extenuate, 

Nor set down aught in malice. 0. v. 3 

In simple and pure soul I come to you. 0. i. 1 

CANNONADE (See also Siege). 

By east and west, let France and England mount 

Their battering cannon, charged to the mouths ; 

Till their soul-fearing clamours have brawl'd down 

The flinty ribs of this contemptuous city : 

I'd play incessantly upon these jades. 

Ev'n till unfenced desolation 

Leave them as naked as the vulgar air. K. J. ii. 2. 


The truth is, I am only old in judgment and understand- 
. ing ; and he that will caper with me for a thousand marks, 
let him lend me the money, and have at liim. 

E. IV, PT. II. i. 2. 


CAP fljiikjBpariiiii Dittiniiiirt|. cau 

CAPTAIN, THE Title op, Prostituted. 

Captain ! thou a}>omina])le clieatcr, art thou not ashamed 
to bo called captain ? If captains were of my mind, they 
would truncheon you out, for taking their names upon you 
"before you have earned them. You a captain, you slave I 
for what? A captair; ! these villain?? will make the word 
captain odious : therefore, captains had need look to it. 

H. IV. PT. II. ii. 4. 


You must needs learn, lord, to amend this fault. 

Though sometimes it show greatness, courage, blood, 

(And that's the dearest grace it renders you) 

Yet oftentimes it doth present harsh rage, 

Defect of manners, want of government, 

Pride, haughtiness, opinion, and disdain: 

The least of which haunting a nol)leman, 

Loseth men's hearts ; and leaves behind a stain 

Upon the beauty of all parts besides, 

Beguiling them of commendation. H. IV. ft. i. iii. 1. 


Care keeps his watch in every old man's eye, 
And where care lodges sleep will never lie ; 
But where unbruised youth with unstuff'd brain 
Doth couch his limbs, there golden sleep doth reign. 

B. J. ii. 3. 

You lay out too much pains, 
Eor purchasing. but trouble. Ci/m. ii. 3. 


Slaying is the word ; 
It is a deed in fashion. J. C, v. 5. 


But he, as loving his own pride and purposes, 

Evades them with a bombast circumstance, 

Horribly stuff'd with epithets of war ; 

And, in conclusion, nonsuits 

My mediators. 0, i. 1 


I'll give thrice so much land 
To any well deserving friend; 
But in the way of bargain, mark you me, 
I'll cavil on the ninth part of a hair. H, TV. pt. i. iii. 1. 


For 'tis a cause that hath no mean dependence 

Upon our joint and several dignities. T, C. ii. 2, 


CAL- IjiakEspiiriitii Sirtinnarif. cel 

CAUSE, Defective. 

A rotten cause abides no handling. H. IV, pt. it. iv. 1. 

I cannot fight upon this argument. T. C. i. 1. 

CAUTION (See also Adyice). 

Too much trust hath damag'd such 
As have believ'd men in their loves too much. Poems. 

Take heed o' the foul fiend ! K. L. iii. 4. 

It is the bright day that brings forth the adder, 
And that craves wary walking. /. C, ii. 1. 

Good, my lord, let's fight with gentle words, 
Till time lend friends, and friends their helping swords. 

E. II. iii. 3. 
Come not between the dragon and his wrath. K. L. i. 1. 

Hear you me, Jessica : 
Lock up my doors ; and when you hear the drum, 
.And the vile squeaking of the wry-neck'd fife, 
Clamber not you up to the casement then, 
IVor thrust your hearl into the public street. 
To gaze on Christian fools with varnish'd faces ; 
But stop my house's ears ; I moan my casements : 
Lot not the sound of shallow foppery enter 
My sober house. M. V. ii. 5. 

Think him as a serpent's egg, 
AYhlch, hatch'd, would, as his kind, grow mischievous ; 
And kill him in the shell. J.C. ii. 1. 

Let me still take away the harms I fear. 

Not fear still to be taken. X. L. i. 4, 

How far your eyes may pierce I cannot tell, 

Striving to better, oft we mar what's well. K.L. i. 4. 

Excessive, of the Aged. 

But, beshrew my jealousy ! 
It seems, it is as proper to our age 
To cast beyond ourselves in our opinions, 
As it is common for the younger sort 
To lack discretion. ]J, ii. 1. 

CELEBRITY (See also Fame). 

Thrice-fam'd beyond all erudition. T. C. ii. 3. 


Celerity is never more admir'd. 

Then by the negligent. ji,C. iii. 7 

The flighty purpose never is overtook, 

Unless the deed go with it. M. iv, 1. 


CEN |lniItBS|rEiiriiiii 5irtiniiiiri{. cer 

CENSURE (See also Opinion). 

We, in the world's wide mouth 
Live scandaliz'd, and foully spoken of. H. IV. ft. i. i. 3. 
Why, who cries out on pride, 
That can therein tax any private party ? 
Doth it not flow as hugely as the sea, 
Till that the weary very means do ebb ? 
What woman in the city do I name, 
When that I say. The city woman bears 
The cost of princes on unworthy shoulders ? 
AVho can come in and say that I mean her, 
When such a one as she, such is her neighbour ? 
Or what is he of basest function, 
That says his bravery is not on my cost, 
(Thinking that I mean him,) but therein suits 
His folly to the mettle of my speech ? 
There, then ; How, what then ? Let me see wherein 
My tongue hath wrong'd him ; if it do him right, 
Then he hath wrong'd himself ; if he be free, 
Why then, my taxing like a wild-goose flies, '" 

XJnclaim'd of any man. A.Y. ii. 7. 

CEREMONY (See also Regal Ceremonies). 
Was but devis'd at first to set a gloss 
On faint deeds, hollow welcomes, 
Recanting goodness, sorry ere His shown, 
'But where there is true friendship, there needs none. 

T. A. i. 2. 
And worthy shameful check it were to stand 
On more mechanic compliment. A. C, iv. 4. 

CERES, Invocation to. 

Ceres, most bounteous lady, thy rich lees 

Of wheat, rye, barley, vetches, oats, and pease ; 

Thy turfy mountains where live nibbling sheep. 

And flat meads thatch'd with stover, them to keep ; 

Thy banks with peonied and lilied brims, 

AVhich spungy April at thy best betrims. 

To make cold nymphs, chaste crowns ; and dark broom 

Whose shadow the dismissed bachelor loves. 
Being lass-lorn ; th,y pole-clipt vineyard ; 
And thy sea-marge, sterile, and rocky hard. 
Where thou thyself dost air: The queen o' sky, 
Whose watery arch, and messenger, am I, 
Bids thee leave these ; and with her sovereign grace. 
Here, on this grass-plot, in this very place, 
To come and sport. T. iv. 1, 


CHA IjinkEBirfiirinii Sittinnttrif. cha 


Here's the challenge, read it ; I warrant there's vinegar 
and pepper in't. T, N. iii. 4. 

Nay, answer me : stand, and unfold 

Yourself. ^ iZ: i. 1. 

God bless me from a challenge ! M. A, v. 1. 

Read thou this challenge ; mark but the penning of it. 

K. L. iv. 6. 

Draw, you rogue ; for though it be night, the moon 
Bhines. K. L. ii. 2. 

ril write thee a challenge ; or I'll deliver thy indignation 
by word of mouth. T. i<f, ii. 4. 

By gar, it is a shallenge : I vill cut his troat in de park. 

ilf.^. i. 4. 

Go, write it in a martial hand ; be curst and brief; it is 
no matter how witty, so it be eloquent, and full of inven- 
tion ; tJlunt him with the license of ink. T, N, iii. 2. 

< I protest 

Maugre thy strength, youth, place, and eminence, 
Despite thy victor sword, and fire-new fortune, 
Thy valour, and thy heart, — thou art a traitor : 
False to thy gods, thy brother, and thy father ; 
Conspirant 'gainst this high illustrious prince ; 
And from the extremest upward of thy head, 
To the descent and dust beneath thy feet, 
A most toad-spotted traitor. Say thou, No, 
This sword, this arm, and my best spirits are bent, 
To prove upon thy heart, whereto I speak, 
Thou liest. K, L. t. 3. 

I never in my life 

Did hear a challenge urg'd more modestly, 

Unless a brother should a brother dare 

To gentle exercise and proof of arms. 

He gave you all the duties of a man ; 

Trimm'd up your praises with a princely tongue ; 

Spoke your deservings like a clironicle ; 

Making you ever better than his praise, 

By still dispraising praise, valued with you: 

And, which became him like a pi-ince indeed. 

He made a blushing cital of himself; 

And chid his truant youth with such a grace, 

As if he mastered there a double spirit, 

Of teaching and of learning instantly. H, IV, pt. I. v. 2. 


Like a bold champion, I assume the lists, 


cHA |li{iltEH]iEiiriiiH Dirtinnnnj/ ciia 

CHAMPION,— co?i;fmwed:. 

Nor ask advi'ce of any other thought 

But faithfulness and courage. P. P i. 1. 

CHANCE (See also Fortune). 

Full oft His seen, 
Our mean seeures us ; and our mere defects 
Prove our commodities. K. L. iv. 1. 


Why, here's a change indeed in the commonwealth 1 

M. M, i. 2. 
And art thou come to this ? K. L. iii. 4. 

, THE Necessity of. 

If all the year were playing holidays. 

To sport would be as tedious as to work ; 

But when they seldom come, they wish'd-for come, 

And nothing pleaseth but rare accidents. H, IV. pt. i. i. 2. 


His humour 
Was nothing but mutation ; Ay and that 
From one bad thing to worse. Cym, iv. 2, 


My learned lord cardinal, 
Deliver all with charity. ' K YIIL i. 2, 

For he is gracious if he be observed ; 

He hath a tear for pity, and a hand 

Open as day for melting charity. H. IV, pt. ii. iv. 4. 


For a charm of powerful trouble 

Like a hell-broth boil aud bubble. M. iv. 1. 

Tlien I beat my tabor. 
At which, like unback'd colts, they prickM their ears, 
' Advanced their eyelids, lifted up their noses. 
As they smelt music ; so I charmed their ears. 
That, calf-like, they my lowing followed through 
Toothed briars, sharp furzes, pricking goss, and thorns, 
Which enter'd their frail shins : at last I left them 
I'the lilthy mantled pool beyond your cell. T. iv. 1 

' Dissolving. 

The charm dissolves apace ; 
And as the morning steals upon the night, 
Melting the darkness, so their rising senses 
Begin to chase the ignorant fumes that mantle 
Their clearer reason. T* v. 1« 


cHA ili{ikfH|iBiiriiiii Sirtinimrtf. cm 


Chaste as the icicle, 
That^s curded by the frost from purest snow, 
And hanf^s on Dianas temple. (7. v. 3. 

Of chastity, the ornaments are chaste. Focms, 

She'll not be hit 
With Cupid's arrow ; she hath Dian's wit ; 
And, in stron<5 proof of chastity well armM, 
From love's weak childish bow she lives unharm'd. 

R, J. i. 1. 

I thouf^ht her 
As chaste as unsunn'd snow. Cym» ii. 6. 

She will not stay the siege of loving terras, 
Kor ^bide th^ encounter of assailing eyes, 
Nor ope her lap to saint-seducing gold. R. J. i. 1, 

CHEATS (See also Knaves). 

They say, this town is full of cozenage ; 

As, nimble jugglers, that deceive the eye. 

Dark-working Sorcerers, that change the mind. 

Soul-killing witches, that deform the body ; 

Disguised cheaters, prating mountebanks, 

And many such like libertines of sin. C. E. i. 2. 


I see this hath a little dashed your spirits. 0. iii. 3. 


Why should a man whose blood is warm within, 

Sit like his grandsire cut in alabaster? 

vSleep when he wakes, and creep into the jaundice 

By being peevish. M. V. i. 1. 


But I'll not chide thee ; 
Let shame come when it will, I do not call it : 
I do not bid the thunder-bearer shoot. 
Nor tell tales of thee to high-judging Jove : 
Mend, when thou can^st ; be better at thy leisure : 
I can be patient. K. L. ii. 4. 

0, what a beast was I to chide him I R. J. iii. 2. 

CHILDREN, Undutiful (See also Filial Ingratitude). 
I shall see 
The winged vengeance overtake such children. K, L. iii. 7. 


Now thou art seal'd the son of chivalry. H. VL pt. i. iv. 6. 

In this glorious and well foughten field, 
We kept together in our chivalry. H.Y, iv. 6. 


cm ■ |l)gkrH|rfiiriaH Dirttniiiin[. cm 


I am to day i' the vein of chivalry. T.C. v. 3. 

For my part, I may speak it to my shame, 

I have a truant been to chivah-y. H. IV. pt. i. v. 1. 


There's a small choice in rotten apples. T. S. i. 1. 


You must be seein^^ christenings ! Do you look foible 
and cakes here, y3u rude rascals 1 H. VIII. v. 3. 


I always thought, 
It Tvas both impious and unnatural, 
That such immanity and bloody strife 
Should reign among professors of one faith. 

H. VI. PT. I. V. 1. 


Who should be pitiful if you be not ? 
Or who should study to prefer a peace. 
If holy churchmen take delight in broils ? 

H. VI. PT. I. iii. 1, 

^ Love and meekness, lord, 

Become a churchman better than ambition ; 
AYin straying souls with modesty again, 
Cast none away. //. VIII. v. 2. 

I am of the church, and will be glad to do my benevo* 
lence, to make atonements and compromises between you. 

M. W. i. 1. 

If we did think 

His contemplations were above the earth, 

And fix'd on spiritual objects, he should still 

Dwell in his musings : but I am afraid. 

His thinkings are below the moon, not worth 

His serious considering. U, VIIT, iii. 2. 


Whatl the sword and the word! do you study them 
both, master parson ? M. W. iii. 1. 


My master is of churlish disposition, 

And little recks to find the way to heaven, 

By doing deeds of hospitality. A. Y. ii. 4. 


Thou shult never get such a secret from me, but by a 
parabk. T. G. ii. 5, 

49 5 

ciK ilmlvBHpfariaH Sittinnani. clo 


Wear your eye, — thus, not jealous nor secure : 
I would not have your free and noble nature, 
Out of self bounty, be abus'd ; look to't. 0. iii. 3. 

Lay thy finger, — thus, and let thy soul be instructed. 

0, ii. 1. 

CLAIM, Antiquated. 

^Tis no sinister, nor no aukward claim, 

Pick'd from the worm-holes of long vanished days, 

Nor from the dust of old oblivion rak'd. H. Y. ii. 4. 

CLEOPATRA, Sailing. 

The barge she sat in, like a burnish'd throne, 

Burn'd on the water : the poop was beaten gold ; 

Purple the sails, and so perfumed, that 

The winds were love-sick with them : the oars were silver ; 

Which to the tune of flutes kept stroke, and made 

The water, which they, beat, to follow faster. 

As amorous of their strokes. For her own person, 

It beggared all description : she did lie 

In her pavilion (cloth of gold of tissue) 

O'er-picturing that Venus, where we see, 

The fancy out- work nature ; on each side her. 

Stood pretty dimpled boys, like smiling Cupids, 

With diverse-colour'd fans, whose wind did seem 

To glow the delicate cheeks which they did cool ; — 

And what they undid,, did. 

Iler gentlewomen, like the Nereides, 

So many mermaids, tended her i' the eyes, 

And made their bonds adornings : at the helm, 

A seeming mermaid steers ; the silken tackle 

Swell with the touches of those flower-soft hands, 

That yarely frame the office. From the barge, 

A strange invisible perfume hits the sense 

Of the adjacent wharfs. A.C, ii. % 


The very opener and intelligencer, 

Between the grace, the sanctities of heaven, 

And our dull workings. IV\ pt. it. iv. 2. 


That, which is now a horse, even with a thought, 

The rack dislimns ; and makes it indistinct, 

As water is in water. A, 0. iv. iZ 

Sometimes we see a cloud that's dragonish ; 
A vapour, sometimes, like a bear, or lion, 
A tower' d citadel, a pendant rock, 


CLO llmhHpB'iiriaii Dirtinnnrti. com 

CLOUDS, — continued, 

A forked mountain, or blue promontory, 

With trees uponH< that nod unto the world, 

And mock our eyes with aiu: Thou hast seen these signs ; 

They are black vesper^s pageants. A, C. iv. 12. 


A clod of wayward marie. M, A. ii. 1. 

It is meat and drink to me to see a clewn. A. Y, v. 1. 

COAST AT Sun-rise. 

Even till the eastern gate, all fiery red, 
Opening on Neptune with fair blessed* beams 
Turns into yellow gold his salt-green streams. M. N, iii. 2. 

COCK, Crowing. 

I have heard, 
The cock, that is the trumpet of the morn, 
Doth with his lofty and shrill-sounding throat 
Awake the god of day; and, at his warning, 
Whether in sea, or fire, in earth, or air, 
The extravagant and erring spirit hies 
To his confine. H, i. 1. 


This will so fright them both, that they will kill one 
another by the iook, like cockatrices. T.N, iii. 4. 

COLDNESS (See also Frigidity). 

Tut, tut, thou art all ice ; thy kindness freezes. 

Ii. Ill iv. 2. 


A snapper up of unconsidered trifles. W, T. iv. 2. 

And in his brain, 
Which is as dry as the remainder biscuit 
After a voyage, — he hath slrange places cramm'd 
With observation, the which he vents 

In mangled forms. A.Y. ii. 7. 

^ Every lane^s end, every shop, church, session, hanging, 

yields a careful man work. W.T. iv. 3. 

A poor humour of mine, Sir, to take that that no man 

else will. A.Y. v. 4. 


Now they are clapper-clawing one anothei j I'll go look on 


Thoughts tending to content, flatter themselves, — 
That thoy are not the first of fortune's slaves, 


COM l^altrspBiiriiiii BirHnnErif. com 

COMFOUT, —contmued. 

Nor shall not be the last ; like silly beggars, 
Who, sitting in the stocks, refuge their shame, — 
That many have, and others must sit there, 
And in this thought they find a kind of ease, 
Bearing their own misfortunes on the back 
Of such as have before endur'd the like. E, IL v. 5, 

How mightily, sometimes, we make us comforts of our loysea. 

A. W. iv. 3. 


Commodity, the bias of the world ; 

The world, who of itself is poised well, 

]\Iade to run even upon even ground ; 

Till this advantage, this vile drawing bias. 

This sway of motion, this commodity, j 

Makes it take head from all indiiferency, 

From all direction, purpose, course, intent : 

And this same bias, this commodity. 

This bawd, this broker, this all-changing word, 

Clapp'd on the outward eye of fickle France, 

Hath drawn him from his own determined aid, 

From a resolvM and honourable war, 

To a most base and vile concluded peace. K. /. ii. 2. 

COMMOTION (See also Mob). 

The times are wild ; contention, like a horse 

Full of high feeding, madly hath broke loose. 

And bears dow^n all before him. H, IV, ft. ii. i. 1. 

You have made good work, 

You and your apron men ; you that stood so much 

Upon the voice of occupation, and 

The breath of garlic-eaters. C. iv. 6. 


A seaPd compact. 

Well ratified by law and heraldry. JS". i. 1, 


We were as twinnM lambs that did frisk i^ the sun, 

And bleat the one at the other : what we changed 

AVas innocence for innocence ; we knew not 

The doctrine of ill-doing, no, nor dream'd 

That any did. W.T. i. 2 


It is certain, that either wise bearing, or ignorant car- 
nage is caught as men take diseases, one of another ; 
therefore, let men take heed of their company. 

H. IV, PT. II. v. 1. 

There is a thing, Harry, which thou hast often heard of, 

COM IjiakBspiiiiiiii Dirtinimni. con 

COMPANY— con/mwe(^. 

and it is known to many in our land by the name of pitch : 
this pitch, as ancient writers do report, doth defile ; so doth 
the company tliou keepest. H. IV. ft. i. ii. 4« 

Well, heaven send the prince a better companion. 

H. IV. FT. II. i. 2. 


Had he been slaughter-man to all my kin, 

I should not for my life but weep with him, 

To see how inly sorrow gripes his soul. H. VI. ft. hi. i. 4. 


There are some shrewd contents in yon' same paper. 

M.V. iii. 2. 


0, that I were 

Upon the hill of Basan, to outroar 

The horned herd! for I have savage cause ; 

And to proclaim it civilly, were like 

A halter'd neck, which docs the hangman thank 

For being yare about him. A.C. iii. 11. 


'Twas never merry world 
Since lowly feigning w^as cali'd compliment. T. N. iii. 1. 

COMPUNCTION (See also Remorse). 

Art thou afeard 
To be the same in thine own act and valour, 
As thou art in desire ? Would'st thou have that 
Which thou esteem'st the ornament of life, 
And live a coward in thine own esteem ; 
Letting I dare not, wait upon I would, 
Like the poor cat i' the adage ? M. i. 7. 

W^e will proceed no further in this business: 
He hath, honour' d me of late, and I have bought 
Golden opinions of all sorts of people. M. i. 7. 

But wherefore could I not pronounce, Amen ? 
I had most need of blessing, and Amen 
Stuck in my throat. M. ii. 2. 


Friend and companion in the front of war. A.C. v. 1. 


So sensible 
Seemeth their conference, their conceits have wings 
Fleeter than arrows, ballets, wind, thought, swifter things? 

L. L. v. 2. 

53 6* 

CON IjjfilttBp^Mriiiii flirtintiHtii- con 

CON CmT,—conti7med. 

Conceit in weakest bodies strongest works. E. iii. 4. 


Indeed, without an oath, I'll make an end on't. H. iv. 5 

— False. 

most lame and impotent conclusion ! 0. ii. 1. 

But then there is no consonancy in the sequel. T, N ii. 5. 


I extend my hand to him thus, quenching my familiar 
smile with an austere regard of controul. 2\ JV. ii. 5. 


I'll talk a word with this same learned Theban. 

K. L, iii ^ 


As gentle and as jocund as to jest. 

Go I to fight : Truth has a quiet breast. B. II. i. 3, 

• Unwarranted, 

Is not this a strange fellow, my lord ? that so confidently 
seems to undertake this business, which he knows is not to 
be done ; damns himself to do, and dares better be damnM 
than to do it. A. W. iii. 6. 


They brought one Punch : a hungry lean-fac'd villain, 

A mere anatomy, a mountebank, 

A thread-bare juggler, a fortune-teller ; 

A needy, hollow-ey'd, sharp-looking wretch, 

A living dead man : this pernicious slave, 

Forsooth, took on him as a conjuror ; 

And, gazing in mine eyes, feeling my pulse, 

And with no fiice, as 'twere, out-facing me, 

Cried out, I was possessed. C. E. \, 1, 


Why, this is to have a name in great men's fellowship. 

A. a ii. 7. 

CONQUEROR (See also War). 

Before him . 
lie carries noise, and behind him he leaves tear^. C. ii. I 
A conqueror and afear'd to speak ! L. L, v. 2. 


Truly to speak, Sir, and with no addition, 
We go to gain a little patch of ground, 
That hath in it no profit but the name. JT. iy. 4. 

' 54 

CON |lj{tkES|iEiiriii!i l)irtiiiiiiirt[, con 

CONSCIENCE (See also Suicide). 

I'll teach you how you shall arraign your conscience. 

And try your penitence, if it be sound, 

Or hollowly put on. M. M. ii. 3. 

Go to your bosom ; 
Knock there ; and ask your heart w^hat it doth know. 

M, M. ii. 2. 
"Who has a breast so pure, 
IBut some uncleanly apprehensions 
Keep leets and law-days, and in sessions sit 
AVith meditations lawful ? v 0. iii. 3. 

What stronger breast-plate than a heart untainted ? 
Thrice is he armM that hath his quarrel just ; 
And he but naked though locked up in steel, 
Whose conscience with injustice is corrupted. 

H. VL FT. II. iii. 2. 
I feel within me 
A peace above all earthly dignities, 
A still and quiet conscience. H. YIIL iii. 2 

You shall see, anon ; His a knavish piece of work .; but 
what of that? Your majesty, and we that have free souls, 
it touches us not: Let the galFd jade wince, our withers 
are unwrung. JI. iii. 2. 

Why, let the stricken deer go weep, 

The hart ungalled play ; 
For some must watch, while some must sleep ; 

Thus runs the world away. H. iii. 2, 

I'll observe his looks ; 
I'll tent him to the quick ; if he do blench, 
I know my course. H. ii. 2. 

I'll not meddle with it, it is a dangerous thing, it makes 
a man a coward ; a man cannot steal, but it accuseth him ; 
a man cannot swear, but it checks him ; a man cannot lie 
with a neighbour's wife, but it detects him : 'Tis a blushing 
shame-fac'd spirit, that mutinies in a man's bosom ; it fills 
one full of obstacles : it made me once restore a purse of 
gold, that by chance I found ; it beggars any man that 
keeps it ; it is turned out of all towns and cities for a dan- 
gerous thing. R. 111. i. 4. 

• Guilty. 

My conscience hath a thousand several tongues. 

And every tongue brings in a several tale ; 

And every tale condemns me for a villain. R, III, v. 3. 

IIow is't with me when every noise appals me ? M. ii. 2. 

CON lljiiItBSiiriiriiiii DirtinHnrif. con 

CONSCIENCE, G\ju.TY— continued. 

Suspicion always 4:iaunts the guilty mind ; 
The thief doth fear each bush an officer. 

E. VL PT. III. V. 6. 

IIow smart 
A lash that speech doth give my conscience I H. iii. 1. 

Thou turn'st mine eyes into my very soul ; 

And there I see such black and grained spots 

As will not leave their tinct. H. iii. 4, 

Methought the billows spoke and told me of it ; 

The winds did sing it to me; and the thunder, 

That deep and dreadful organ-pipe, pronouncM 

The name of Prosper ; it did bass my trespass, 

Therefore my son i^ th^ ooze is bedded. T, ii. 2. 

Soft ; I did but dream, 
0, coward conscience, how dost thou affright me ! 

B. III. V. 3. 

With clog of conscience and sour melancholy. B. IL v. 6. 

Not so sick, my lord, 

As she is troubled with thick-coming fancies, 

That keep her from her rest. M. v. 3. 

Canst thou not n^inister to a mind diseased ; 

Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow ; 

Raze out the written troubles of the brain ; 

And with some sweet oblivious antidote, 

Cleanse the foul bosom of that perilous stuff, 

Which weighs upon the heurt ? M. v. 3. 

— — Seared. 

If it were a kybe, 
^Twould put me to my slipper ; but I feel not 
This deity in my bosom : twenty consciences, 
That stand Hwixt me and Milan, candied be they, 
And melt, ere they molest. T, ii. 1, 

Let not our babbling dreams affright our souls ; 
Conscience is but a word that cowards use, 
Devis'd at first, to keep the strong in awe. B. TIL v. 3. 


While you here do snoring lie 
Open-ey'd conspiracy 
His time doth take : 
If of life you keep a care^ 
Shake off slumber, and beware : 

Awake ! Awake ! T. ii. 2, 

CON lljnktBiiJEriaii Bi.rtinniin(* con 

CONSPIRACY— continued. 

conspiracy ! 
Sham'st thou to show thy dangerous brow by night, 
When evils are most free ? 0, then, by day, 
Where wilt thou find a cavern dark enough 
To mask thy monstrous visage ? Seek none, conspiracy, 
Hide it^in smiles and affability : 
For if thou path thy native semblance on, 
Not Erebus itself were dim enough 
To hide thee from prevention. /. C. ii. 1. 


It is a purposM thing, and grows by plot, 

To curb the will of the nobility : — 

Suffer it, and live with such as cannot rule 

And never will be ruPd. C. iii. 1. 

CONSTANCY (See also Fidelity). 

The fineness of which metal is not found 

In fortune's love ; for then, the bold and coward, 

The wise and fool, the artist and unread. 

The hard and soft, seem all affin'd and kin ; 

But in the wind and tempest of her fi*own, 

Distinction, with a broad and powerful fan, 

PuSing at all, winnows the light away ; 

And what hath mass, or matter, by itself 

Lies, rich in virtue, and unmingled. T.C. i. 3. 

Master, go on ; and I will follow thee, 

To the last gasp, with truth and loyalty. A. Y. ii. 3. 

Time, force, and death, 

Do to this body what extremes you can ; 

But the strong base and building of my love 

Is as the very centre of the earth, 

Drawing all things to it. T. C. iv. 2. 

Now from head to foot, 

I am marble constant ; now the fleeting moon 

No planet is of mine. A.C. v. 2. 

But I am constant as the northern star, 

Of whose true fix'd, and vesting quality, 

There is no fellow in the firmament. J.C iii, 1. 

' Conjugal. 

Here I kneel. — 

If e'er my wish did trespass 'gainst his love, 

Either in discourse, in thought, or actual deed ; 

Or that mine eyes, mine ears, or any sense. 

Delighted them in any other form ; 

Or that I do not yet, and ever did, 

And ever will, — though he do shake me off 


CON llffikrsiiBiiriiiE Birtinnat^* con 

CONSTANCY, CoNjvGAL.'-^ontinioed, 

To beggarly divorcement, — love him dearly, 

Comfort forswear me ! Unkindness may do much ; 

And his unkindness may defeat my life, 

But never taint my love. 0, iv. 2. 

lie counsels a divorce : a loss of her, 

That, like a jewel, has hung twenty years 

About his neck, yet never lost her lustre ; 

Of her, that loves him with that excellence 

That angels love good men with ; even of her, 

That when the greatest stroke of fortune falls, 

Will bless the king. ff. VIII ii. 2. 

Sir, call to mind, 
That I have been your wife in this obedience, 
Upward of twenty years, and have been blessed 
With many children by you. If, in the course 
And process of this time, you can report, 
And prove it too, against mine honour aught, 
My bond to wedlock, or my love and duty, 
Against your sacred person, in God's name, 
Turn me away ; and let the fouFst contempt 
Shut door upon me, and so give me up 
To the sharpest kind of justice. H.VIIL ii. ii. 

bid me leap, rather than marry Paris, 

From off the battlements of yonder tower ; 

Or walk in thievish ways ; or bid me lurk 

Where serpents are ; chain me with roaring bears ; 

Or shut me nightly in a charnel house, 

O'er-cover'd quite with dead men's rattling bones, 

With reeky shanks, and yellow chapless skulls ; 

Or bid me go into a new made grave, 

And hide me with a dead man in his shroud; 

Things that, to hear them told, have made me tremble ; 

And I will do it without fear or doubt. 

To live ail unstain'd wife to my sweet love. H, J. iv. 1. 


Behold, destruction, frenzy, and amazement, 

Like witless antics, one another meet. T.C, v. 3. 


Now sit we close about the taper here, 

And call in que&tion our necessities. J.C* iv. 3. 


When the hurly-burly's done. 

When the battle's lost and won. M. i. 1 

CON IliakBspatinti Bittintinnf. coo 


Contemplation makes a rare turkey-cock of him ; howhejeta 
under his advanced plumes 1 T, N. ii. 5. 


Put on him what forgeries you please ; marry, none so rank 
As may dishonour him. H, ii. 1. 

CONTENT (See also Moderation). 
Our content 
Is our best having. H.YIIL ii. 3. 

I swear 'tis better to be lowly born, 
And range with humble livers in content, 
Than to be perk'd up in a glistering grief, 
And wear a golden sorrow. H.VIIL ii. 3. 

My crown is in my heart, not on my head ; 
Not deck'd with diamonds and Indian stones, 
Nor to be seen ; my crown is calPd content ; 
A crown it is that seldom kings enjoy. H. VI, pt. hi. iii. 1. 

Willing misery 
Outlives incertain pomp, is crown'd before: 
The one is filling still, never complete ; 
The other, at high wish. T, A. iv. 3. 


I pr'ythee take thy fingers from my throat ; 

For though I am not splenetive and rash, 

Yet have I in me something dangerous, 

Which let thy wisdom fear. -S". v. 1. 


These high wild hills and rough uneven ways, 
Draw out our miles and make them wearisome ; 
And yet your fair discourse hath been as sugar, 
Making the hard way sweet and delectable. E.IL ii. 3. 

I praise God for you, Sir ; your reasons at dinner, have 
been sharp and sententious ; pleasant without scurrility, 
witty without afi'ectation, audacious without impudency, 
learned without opinion, and strange without heresy. 

L.L. Y. I. 


But his neat cookery ! He cut our roots in characters ; 

And sauc'd our broths as Juno had been sick, 

And he her dieter. Cym, iv. 2. 


And in the height of this bath, when I was. more than 
half stew'd in grease, like a Dutch dish, to be thrown into 


coo IjiiikrHiituriati lOirtinitnnf, cot 


the Thames, and cooled glowing hot, in that snrge, like a 
horse-shoe, think of that ; — hissing hot ; — think of that, 
Master Brook. M. W. iii. 5. 


A Corinthian, a lad of mettle. II.IV. pt. i. ii. 4 


Thou art left, Marcius : 

A carbuncle entire, as big as thou art, 

Were not so rich a jeAYcl. Thou wast a soldier 

Even to Cato's wish, not fierce and terril^le 

Only in strokes ; but, with thy grim looks, and 

The thunder-like percussion of thy sounds. 

Thou mad'st thine enemies shake, as if the world 

Were feverous and did tremble. C. i. 4, 

Ilis nature is too noble for the world : 

He would not flatter Neptune for his trident, 

Or Jove for his power to thunder. His heart's his mouth ; 

What his breast forges, tliat his tongue must vent ; 

And, being angry, does forget that ever 

He heard the name of death. C. iii. 1. 


Your purposed low correction, 
Is such, as basest and contemned'st wretches, 
For pilferings and most common trespasses, 
Are punished with. K. L. ii. 2. 

My masters of St. Alban's, have you not beadles in your 

town, and things called whips ? II. VI, ft. ii. ii. 1. 

-^ * 

• Difficulties of. 

For full well he knows, 
He cannot so precisely weed this land, 
As his misdoubts present occasion ; 
His foes are so enrooted with his friends. 
That, plucking to unfix an enemy, 
He doth unfasten so, and shake a friend. 
8o that this land, like an offensive wife, 
That hath enrag'd him on to offer strokes, 
As he is striking, holds his infant up, 
And hangs resolved correction in the arm 
That was uprear'd to execution. H. IV. ft. ii. iv. 1, 


Those that much are of gain so fond, 

That oft they have not that w^hich they possess ; 
They scatter and unloose it from their bond, 
And so, by hoping more, they have but less. Poems. 

coTj llfflktspniriaH Sirtinnnnf. cou 


Is this your Christian counsel ? out upon ye ! 

Heaven is above all yet ; there sits a judge, 

That no king can corrupt. H.YIIL iii. 1. 


Her face, the book of praises, where is read 

Nothing but curious pleasures, as from thence 

Sorrow were ever raz'd, and testy wrath 

Could never be her mild companion. P.P. i. 1. 

COURAGE (See also Yalour). 

Pr'ythee peace ; 
I dare do all that may become a man ; 
Who dares do more, is none. M. i. 7. 

Things out of hope are compass't oft with venturing. Poems, 

Wise men ne'er sit and wail their loss, 
But choerly seek how to redress their harms. 
What though the mast be now blown overboard, 
The cable broke, the holding anchor lost. 
And half our sailors swallow'd in the flood ? 
Yet lives our pilot still : Is't meet that he 
Should leave the helm, and like a fearful lad, 
With tearful eyes add water to the sea, 
And give more strength to that which hath too much ; 
AVhiles, in his moan, the ship splits on the rook, 
Which industry and courage might have sav'd ? 

H. VI. PT. III. V. 4. 
By how much unexpected, by so much 
We must awake endeavour for defence ; 
For courage mounteth with occasion. K. J. ii. 1. 

For this last, 
Before and in Corioli, let me say, 
I cannot speak him home ; he stopp'd the fliers ; 
And by his rare example, make the coward 
Turn terror into sport : as waves before 
A vessel under sail, so men obey'd, 
And fell below his stern : his sword, death's stamp, 
AVhere it did mark, it took ; from facu to foot, 
He was a thing of blood, Avhose every motion 
Was tim'd with dying cries. C ii, 2.. 

But Avherefore do you droop ? why look you sad 1 
Be great in act, as you have been in thought ; 
Let not the world see fear and sad distrust 
(^rovern the motion of a kingly eye : 
Be stirring as the time ; be fire with fire ; 
Threaten the thrcatener and outface the brow 

01 « 

cou llmitfHpEriiiii BirtinHnrif. cou 

COURAGE, — continued. 

Of bragging horror : so shall inferior eyes, 

That borrow their behaviour from the great, 

Grow great by your example, and put on 

The dauntless spirit of resolution. 

Away ; and glister like the god of war, 

When he intendeth to become the field : 

Show boldness and aspiring confidence. 

What, shall they seek the lion in his den, 

And fright him there? and make him tremble there? 

0, let it not be said ! Forage, and run 

To meet displeasure further from the doors ; 

And grapple with him ere he come so nigh. Z". J", v, L 

He hath borne himself beyond the promise of his age ; 
doing in the figure of a lamb the feats of a lion. Jf. A, i. 1. 

When by and by the din of Avar 'gan pierce 

Ilis ready sense ; then straight his doubled spirit 

Ke-quicken'd what in flesh was fatigate, 

And to the battle came he ; where he did 

Kun reeking o'er the lives of men, as if 

-'Twere a perpetual spoil; and till we call'd 

Both field and city ours he never stood 

To ease his breath with panting. C, ii. 2. 

That misbegotten devil, Faulconbridge, 

In spite of spite, alone, upholds the day. K. /. v. 4. 

Alone he enter'd 
The mortal gate o' the city, which he painted 
With shunless destiny, aidless came off. 
And with a sudden reinforcement struck 
Corioli, like a plane. (7. ii. 2, 

Safe, Anthony ; Brutus is safe enough: 

I dare assure thee, that no enemy 

Shall ever take alive the noble Brutus : 

The gods defend him from so great a shame ! 

AVhcn you do find him, or alive or dead, 

lie will be found like Brutus, like himself. /. C. v. 4. 

Our then dictator 
Whom without praise I point at, saw him fight, 
When with his Amazonian chin he drove 
The bristled lips before him : he bestrid 
An o^er-press'd Roman, and i^ the consuFs view. 
Slew three opposers. C, ii. 2, 

Slave, I have set my life upon a cast 
And I will stand the hazard of the die. B, IIL y. 4. 


cou IjiaktHiirEtiaii Bittiniiiini. cou 


Do you take the court for Paris garden ? you rude slaves, 
leave your gaping. H. VIIL v. 3. 


Let the court of France show me such another : I see 
how thine eye would emulate the diamond : thou hast the 
right arched bent of the brow, that becomes the ship-tire, 
the tire-valiant, or any tire of Venetian admittance. 

M. W. iii. 3. 

COURTIER (See also Tools, Slavtshness). 

I am a courtier. See'st thou not the air of the court 
in these enfoldin^i^s ? Ilath not my gait in it the measure 
of the court ? Receiveth not thy nose court-odour from 
me? Reflect I not on thy baseness court-contempt? 

W, T. iv. 3. 
You shall mark 
Many a duteous and knee-crooking knave, 
That doting on his own obsequious bondage, 
Wears out his time, much like his master^s ass, 
For nought but provender ; and when he's old, cashierM. 

0, i. 1. 
But howso'er, no simple man that sees 
This jarring discord of nobility, 
This shouldering of each other in the court, 
This factious bandying of tlieir favorites. 
But that it does presage some ill event. H. IV. pt. i. iv.^1. 

COURTSHIP (See also Love). 

That man that hath a tongue, I say is no man, 

If with his tongue he cannot win a woman. T. G. iii. 1. 

Every night he comes 
With music of all sorts, and songs composed 
To her unworthiness. It nothing steads us 
To chide him from our eaves ; for he persists, 
As if his life lay on't. A. W, iii. 7. 

I will attend her here, 
And woo her with some spirit when she comes. 
Say, that she rail ; Avhy, then I'll tell her plain, 
She sings as sweetly as a nightingale : 
Say, that she frown ; I'll say, she looks as clear 
As morning roses newly wash'd with dew : 
Say, she be mute, and will not speak a word ; 
Then Pll commend her volubility, 
And say, — she uttereth piercing eloquence : 
If she do bid me pack, Til give her thanks, 
As though she bid mc stay by her a week; 


If she deny to wed, Til crave the day 

When I shall ask the banns, and when be married. 

T. S. ii. 1. 
I'll make my heaven in a lady's lap, 
And deck my body in gay ornaments, 
And witch sweet ladies with my words and looks. 

H. VI. PT. III. iii. 2. 
My story being done, 
She gave me for my pains a world of sighs : 
She swore, — In faith, 'twas strange, ^twas passing strange j 
'Twas pitiful, 'twas wondrous pitiful : 
She wished she Jiad not heard it ; yet she wished 
That heaven had made her such a man : she thankM me ; 
And bade me, if I had a friend that lov'd her, 
I should but teach him how to tell my story, 
And that would woo her. Upon this hint I spake : 
She lov'd me for the dangers I had pass'd ; 
And I lov'd her that she did pity them. 0. i. 3. 

King Edward, — What love, think^st thou, I sue so much 
to get? 

Lady Grey, — My love till death, my humble thanks, my 
prayers ; That love, which virtue begs, and virtue grants. 

' H. VI. vx. III. iii. 2. 
Make me a willow cabin at your gate. 
And call upon my soul within the house : 
Write loyal cantons of contemned love, 
And sing them loud even in the dead of night; 
]Iolla your name to the reverberate hills, 
And make the babbling gossip of the air 
Ory out, Olivia ! 0, you should not rest 
Between the elements of air and earth. 
But you should pity me. T. N. i. 5. 

Take no repulse, whatever she doth say ; 
For, get you gone, she doth not mean, away. 
riatter and praise, commend, extol their graces ; 
Though ne'er so black, say they have angels' faces. 

T. G. iii. 1. 
Say, that upon the altar of her beauty 
You sacrifice your tears, your sighs, your heart: 
Write till your ink be dry ; and with your tearb 
Moist it again, and frame some feeling line, 
That may discover such integrity. T. G. iii. 2L 

I tell you, father, 
I am as peremptory as she proud-minded ; 
And when two raging fires meet together, 


cou IjialvEspiiriiiti iirtinttart}. cou 


Thoy do consume the thing that feeds their fury: 

Though little fires grow great with little wind, 

Yet extreme gusts will blow out fire and all: 

So 1 to her, and so she yields to me ; 

For I am rough, and woo not like a babe. T, S. ii. 1. 

Go then, my mother, to your daughter go ; 

Make bold her bashful ears with your experience ; 

Prepare her ears to hear a wooer's tale. E. III. iv. 4. 

What! I that kill'd her husband, and his father. 

To take her in her heart's extremest hate : 

With curses in her mouth, tears in her eyes, 

The bleeding witness of my hatred by ; 

With God, her conscience, and these bars against me, 

And I no friends to back my suit withal. 

But the plain devil and dissembling looks. 

And yet to win her, — all the world to nothing ! E, III i, 2. 

After your dire lamenting elegies, 

Visit by night your lady^s chamber window, 

With some sweet concert ; to their instruments 

Tune a*doploring dump : the night's dead silence 

Will well become such sweet complaining grievance. 

This, or else nothing, will inherit her. T. G. iii. 2. 

Frame yourself 
To orderly solicits ; and be friended 
With aptness to the season : make denials 
Increase your services : so seem, as if 
You were inspir'd to do those duties which 
You tender to her ; that you in all obey her, 
Save when command to your dismission tends, 
And therein you are senseless. Ci/m. ii. 3. 

Never give her o'er ; 
For scorn at first, makes after-love the more. 
If she do frown, 'tis not in hate of you. 
But rather to beget more love in you ; 
If she do chide, 'tis not to have you gone ; 
For why, the fools are mad if left alone. T. G. iii. 1. 

TJie count he wooes your daughter, 
Lays down his wanton siege before her beauty, 
Besolves to carry her ; let her, in fine, consent, 
As we'll direct her how 'tis best to bear it, 
Now his important blood will nought deny 
That she'll demand. A, W. iii. 7. 

She is a woman, therefore may be woo'd; 
She is a woman, therefore may be won. Tit, And, ii. 1. 

65 6» 

cou lljultEspiiiinii Diriinnnrtj;* cow 

QOURTSllll?,— continued. 

Men are April when they woo, December when they wed : 
maids are May when they are maids, but the sky changes 
when they are wives. A.Y, iv. 1. 

"Was ever woman in this humour woo'd ? 

Was ever woman in this humour won? i?. III. i. 2 

Hencefoi-th my wooing mind shall be expressed 

In russet yeas, and honest-meaning noes, L. L. v. 2, 


His mind is not heroic, and there^s the humour of it. 

M. W. i. 3. 

A coward, a most devout coward ; religious in it. 

T. N. iii. 4 
I know him a notorious liar ; 
Think him a great way fool, solely a coward : 
Yet those fix'd evils sit so fit in him, 
That they take place, when virtue's steely bones 
Look bleak in the cold wind. . A. W, i. 1. 

You souls of geese, 
That bear the shapes of men, how have you run 
From slaves that apes would beat ! Pluto and hell 1 
All hurt behind ; backs red, and faces pale 
With flight and agued fear ! Mend, and charge home, 
Or, by the fires of heaven, I'll leave the foe. 
And make my wars on you : Look to't. C. i. 4. 

So bees with smoke, and doves with noisome stench, 
Are from tlieir hives, and houses, driven away. 
They call'd us, for our fierceness, English dogs ; 
Now, like to whelps, we crying run away. 

IT.F/. PT. I. L5. 
The enemy full-hearted, 
Lolling the tongue with slaughtering, having work 
More plentiful than tools to do't, struck down 
Some mortally, some slightly touch'd, some falling 
Merely through fear ; that the straight pass was damnM 
With dead men, hurt behind, and cowards living 
To die with lengthened shame. Cym, y. 3. 

To fear the foe, since fear oppresseth strength. 
Gives, in your weakness, strength unto your foe, 
And so your follies fight against yourself. 
Fear and be slain ; no worse can come, to fight: 
And fight and die, is death destroying death ; 
Where, fearing dying, pays death servile breath. 

B. U. iii. 2. 


cow lljakisiitatiiiH Birtinnnnf. oow 

C^YAUI),— continued. 

A coward is worse than a cup of sack with lime in it. 

II. IV, PT. I. ii. 4. 

Slander'd to death by villains ; 
* That dare as well answer a man, indeed, 
As I dare take a serpent by the tongue ; 
Boys, apes, braggarts, jacks, milksops. M. A. v. 1. 

Well, for two of them, I know them to be as true bred 
cowards as ever turned back ; and for the third, if he fight 
longer than he sees reason, I'll forswear arms. 

H. IV. PT. I. i. 2. 
How many cowards, whose hearts are all as false. 
As stairs of sand, wear yet upon their chins 
The beards of Hercules, and frowning Mars ; 
AVho, inward searched, have livers white as milk ! 
And these assume but valour's excrement, 
To render them redoubted. M. V. iii. 2. 

A plague of all cowards, I say, and a vengeance too ! 
marry and amen ! II. IV. pt. i. ii. 4. 

The mouse ne'er shunri'd the cat, as they did budge 

From rascals worse than they. C. i. 0. 

Reproach and everlasting shame 

Sit mocking in our plumes. II.V. iv. 5. 

Did I but suspect a- fearful man. 
He should have leave to go away betimes ; 
Lest, in our need, he might infect another, 
And make him of like spirit to himself. 
If any such be here, as God forbid ! 
Let him depart before we ne.ed his help. 

H. VL PT. III. V. 4. 
To say the truth, this fact was infiraous, 
And ill-beseeming any common man ; 
Much more a knight, a captain, and a leader. 

II. VI. PT. I. iv. 1. 

We took him for a coward, but he's the very devil incar- 

diuate. T. N. v. 1. 

Cowards father cowards, and base things sire base : 
Nature hath meal, and bran ; contempt, and grace. 

Cym. iv. 2. 

All the contagion of the south light on you ! 

You shames of Rome ! You herd of, — Boils and plagues 

Plaster you o'er ; that you may be abhorred 

Farther than seen, and one infect another 

Against the wind a mile ! C. 1. 4, 

cow lljaktspiiriiiir DirtiniKirtf/ cox 

COWARD, — continued. 

He which hath no stomach to this fight, 
Let him depart ; his passport shall be made, 
And crowns for convoy put into his purse : 
We would not die in that man's company, 
That fears his fellowship to die with us. H. V. iv. 3. 

Perish the man whose mind is backward now. II. V» iv. 3. 

He's a great quarreller ; and, but that he hath the gift 
of a coward, to allay the gust he hath in quarrelling, 'tis 
thought among the prudent, he would quickly have the 
gift of a grave. 2\ N. i. 3. 

In a retreat he outruns any lacquey ; marry, in coming 
on, he has the cramp. A. \V. iv. 3. 

You are the hare of whom the proverb goes, 
Whose valour plucks dead lions by. the beard. K. J. ii. 1. 
Plenty and peace, breed cowards : hardness ever 
Of hardiness is mother. Cym. iii. 6. 

I have fled myself; and have instructed cowards 
To run, and show their shoulders. A.C. iii. 9. 

Foul-spoken coward I that thumlerest with thy tongue, 
And with thy weapon nothing dar'sl perform. Tit. And. ii. 1. 

He excels his brother for a coward, yet his brother is 
reputed one of the best that is. A. W. iv. 3. 

Turn head and stop pursuit ; for coward dogs 
Most spend their mouths, when what they seem to threaten 
Runs far before them. //. V. ii. 4 

So cowards fight when they can fly no further : 
As doves do peck the falcon's piercing talons ; 
So desperate thieves, all hopeless of their lives, 
Breathe out invectives 'gainst the ofiicers. 

II. VI. PT. III. i. 4 

Cowards die many times before their deaths : 
The valiant never taste of death but once. /. C. ii. 2. 

rOXCOMB (See also Fribble). 

Believe me, an absolute gentleman, full of most excel- 
lent differences, of very soft society, and great showing : 
indeed, to speak feelingly of him, he is the card or calendar 
of gentry, for you shall find in him the continent of what 
part a gentleman would see. II. v. 2, 

A man in all the World's new fashion planted, 
That hath a mint of phrases in his brain : 
One, .whom the music of his own vain tongue 
iJoth ravish like enchanting harmony ; 
A man of compliments, whom right and wrong 
Have chose as umpire of their mutiny. L. L. i. 1. 


cox lljaktspiiriiiii SittinDttrii- cri 

COXCOMB,— continued, 

murderous coxcomb 1 what should such a fool 

Do with so good a wife ? 0. v. 2. 

most profane coxcomb ! * X. L. iv. 3. 
Thus has he and many more of the same breed, that, I 

know, the drossy age dotes on, only got the tune of the 
time, and outward habit of encounter ; a kind of yeasty 
collection, which carries them through and through the 
most fond and winnowed opinions ; and do but blow them 
to their trial, the bubbles are out. H. v. 2. 

A barren-spirited fellow. T, C. iv. 1. 


And, indeed. Sir, there are cozeners abroad ; therefore it 
behoves men to be wary. W.T. iv. 3. 

CRAFT, Exploded. 

My antient incantations are too weak. H. VL ft. i. v. 3. 


Thus credulous fools are caught ! 0. iv. 1. 

But he that will believe all that they say, shall never be 

saved by half that they do. A. C, v. 2. 


All have not offended : 

For those that were, it is not square, to take, 

On those that are, revenges : crimes, like lands, 

Are not inherited. T,A, v. 5, 

How oft the sight of means to do ill deeds, 

Makes ill deeds done 1 K. /. iv. 2 

• Unpunished. 

For we bid this be done. 
When evil deeds have their permissive pass, 
And not their punishment. M. M. i. 4. 


Ha 1 is it come to this ! K.L. i. 4. 

Before the curing of a strong disease, 

Even in the instant of repair and health, 

The fit is strongest ; evils that take leave, 

On their departure most of all show evil. K. J, iii. 4. 

Things at the worst will cease ; or else climb upward 

To what they were before. M. iv. 2, 


1 am nothing if not critical. 0. ii. 1. 

CRO IjittkEsptnrinE SirtiDimrif. cru 


I would croak like a raven ; I would bode, I would bode. 

r.C. V.2. 

CROWN, Regal (See also Kings). 

polished perturbation ! golden care ! 
That keeps the ports of slumber open wide 
To many a watchful night ! sleep with it now ! 
Yet not so sound, and half so deeply sweet 
As he, whose brow with homely biggin bound, 

Snores out the watch of night. H. IV, PT. Ii. iv. 4. 

A thousand flatteries sit within thy crown, 

AVhose compass is no bigger than thy head ; 

And, yet incaged in so small a verge. 

The waste is no whit lesser than thy land. B. II. ii. 1. 

Do but think 
How sweet a thing it is to wear a crown ; 
Within whose circuit is Elysium, 
And all that poets feign of bliss and joy. H.IV, pt. hi. i. 2. 

Heaven knows, my son, 
By what by-paths, and indirect crookM ways, 

1 met this crown ; and I myself know well, 

How troublesome it sat upon my head. H, IT, pt. ii. iv. 4 
I spake unto the crown as having sense, 
And thus upbraided it : The care on thee depending , 
. Hath fed vpon the body of my father ; 
Therefore thou, best of (jo'd, art icorst of gold ; 
Other, less fne in carat, is raore py^eciouSy 
Freserving life in med'cine potable ; 
But thou, most fne, most honoured, most renowned, 
Hast eat thy bearer i/p. Thus, my most royal liege, 
Accusing it, I put it on my head ; 
To try with it, as with an enemy, 
That had before my face murderM my father, — 
The quarrel of a true inheritor, H. If. pt. ii. iv. 4. 


0, be thou damnM, inexorable dog ! 

And for thy life let justice be accus'd. 

Thou almost mak'st me waver in my fiith, 

To hold opinion with Pythagoras, 

That souls of animals infuse themselves 

Into the trunks of men : thy currish spirit, 

Govern'd a wolf; who, haug'd for human slaughter, 

Even from the gallows did his fell soul fleet. 

And whilst thou laj-est in thy unhallow'd dam, 

Infus'd itself in thee ; for thy desires 

Are wolfish, bloody, starved, and ravenous. M. F. iv. 1. 


cRu lljaltrspEtiaii DirtiDniini, cur 

CRUELTY,— con?5m?ied 

I am sorry for thee ; thou art come to answer 
A stony adversary, an inhuman wretch, 
Uncapable of pity, void and empty 

From any dram of mercy. M. V. iv. 1. 

See, ruthless queen, a hapless father^s tears ; 
This cloth thou dipp'dst in blood of my sweet boy, 
And I with tears do wash the blood away. 
Keep thou the napkin, and go boast of this : 
And, if thou tell'st the heavy story right. 
Upon my soul, the hearers will shed tears : 
Yea, even my foes will shed fast-falling tears ; 
And say, — Alas, it was a piteous deed ! H. VI. pt. hi. i. 4. 
' She-wolf of France, but worse than wolves of France, 
Whose tongue more poisons than the adder's tooth ! 
IIow ill-beseeming is it in thy sex. 
To triumph like an Amazonian trull, 
Upon their woes whom fortune captivates ! 

H. VI. FT. III. i. 4. 
But neither bended knees, pure hands held up. 
Sad sighs, deep groans, nor silver-shedding tear^, 
Could penetrate her uncompassionate siiw. T.G. iii. 1. 


Therefore, friends, 
As far as to the sepulchre of Christ, 
(Whose soldier now, under whose blessed cross 
We are impressed and ingag'd to fight,) 
Forthwith a power of English shall we levy; 
Whose arms were moulded in their mother's womb. 
To chase these pagans, in tiiose holy fields, 
Over whose acres walk'd those blessed feet, 
Which fourteen hundred years a,go, were naiPd, 
For our advantage, on the bitter cross. M. IV, ft. i. i. 1. 


Amaimon sounds well ; Lucifer, well ; Barbason, well ; 
yet they are devils' additions, the names of fiends; but 
cuckold 1 wittol-cuckold 1 the devil himself hath not such 
a name. M. W. ii. 2 


I'll have the cudgel hallow'd and hung o'er the altar : 
it hath done meritorious service. M. W. iv. 2. 


Some Cupids kill with arrows, some with traps. M. A. iii. 1. 


I pray you, let us satisfy our eyes 

CUR lljakopariEU Birtiniiiirtf. cus 


With the memorials and the things of fame, 

That do renoAvn this city. T. N. iii. 3, 

CURRENTS, Maritime. 

Like to the Pontic sea, 
Whose icy current, and compulsive course 
Ne'er feels retiring ebb, but keeps due on 
To the Propontic, and the Hellespont. 0. iii. 3. 


His a foul thing, when a cur cannot keep himself in 
all companies ! I would have, as one should say, one that 
taketh upon him to be a dog indeed, to be, as it were, a 
dog at all things. T.G. iv. 4, 

When a man's servant shall play the cur with him, 
look you, it goes hard : one that I brought up a puppy ; 
one that I saved from drowning, when three or four of 
his blind brothers and sisters went to it ! I have taught 
him — even as one would say precisely, — Thus I would 
teach a dog. T. G, iv. 4. 


I would the gods had nothing else to do, 

But to confirm my curses 1 C. iv. 2. 

CUSTOM (See also Habit). 

Custom hath made it in him a property of easiness. 

JJ. V. 1 
Custom calls me toH : — 
What custom wills in all things should we do't ; 
The dust on antique time would lie unswept, 
And mountainous error be too highly heap'd 
For truth to overpeer. O. ii. > 

Nice customs curt'sey to great kings. H. V, v. % 

Assume a virtue if you have it not, 
That monster, custom, who all sense doth eat 
Of habit's devil, is angel yet in this. H. iii. 4 

Thou, nature, art my goddess ; to thy law 
My services are bound. Wherefore should I 
Stand in the plague of custom ? K. L. i. 5 


Though I am native here, 
And to the manner born, — it is a custom 
More honour'd in the breach than the observance. IT. i. 4. 

DAG ilmltrBpariim Birtiminnf. " dan 


I will speak aaggers to her, but use none. H. iii. 2, 

DALLIANCE, Unseasonable. 

No, when light-wing'd toys 
Of feathered Cupid seel with wanton dullness 
My speculative and active instruments, 
That my disports corrupt and taint my business, 
Let housewives make a skillet of my helm, 
And all indign and base adversities 

Make head against my estimation. 0. i. 3, 

A woman impudent and mannish grown 
Is not more loath'd than an effeminate man 
In time of action. I stand condomn'd for this ; 
They think, my little stomach to the war, 
And your great love to mo, restrains you thus: 
Sweet, rouse yourself; aiid the weak wanton Cupid 
Shall from your neck unloose his amorous fold, 
And, like a dow-drop from the lion's mane, 
5e shook to air. T. C. iii. 3. 


There Monitaurs and ugly treason lurk. H. YI. pt. i. v. 3. 

Smooth runs the water where the brook is deep. 

IL VL PT. II. iii. 1. 

France, thou mayest hold a serpent by the tongue, 

A cased lion by the mortal paw, 

A fasting tyger safer by the tooth 

Than keep*^in peace tiiat hand which thou dost hold. 

K.J. iii. 1. 

" The pvrpose yon undertake is dangerous :^^ — ^^'by, that\s 

certain ; ^tis dangerous to take a cold, to sleep, to drink ; — • 

but I tell you, my lord ^ool, out of this nettle, danger, we 

pluck this flower, safety. //. IV. pt. i. ii. 3. 

The welfiire of us all 
Hangs on the cutting short that fraudful man. 

//. VI. PT. II. iii. 1. 
If you do wrongfully seize Hereford's rights — 
You pluck a thousand dangers on your head; 
You lose a thousand well-disposed hearts. 
And prick my tender patience to those thoughts 
Which honour and allegiance cannot think. B. IL ii. 1, 

Blunt wedges rive hard knots: the seeded pride 
That hath to this maturity bhjwn up 

73 7 

DAN |ljEltf0]iEiirifiii Uirtininirtf. daw 

DANGER, — coniinued. 

In rank Achilles, must or now be cropped, 

Or, shedding, breed a nursery of like evil, 

To overbulk us aU. T. C. i. 3. 

There is more in it than fair visage. H.VIIL iii. 2, 


'Tis better playing with a lion's whelp 

Than with an old one dying. A.C. iii. 11. 


As full of peril and adventurous spirit 

As to o^er-walk a current roaring loud 

On the uncertain footing of a spear. H. IT. pt. i. i. 3 

ril cross it though it blast me. H, i. 1. 

I dare damnation : To this point I stand. H. iv. 5. 

DARKNESS, its Effect on the Faculty of Hearing. 
Dark night, that from the eye his function takes, 
The ear more quick of apprehension makes ; 
Wherein it doth impair the seeing sense, 
It pays the hearing double recompense. M. iV. iii. 2. 

— Mental. 

Madam, thou errest : I say, there is no darkness but 
ignorance ; in which thou art more puzzled, than the 
Egyptians in their fog. T. N. iv. 2. 


Fathers, from hence trust not your daughters, 

By what you see them act. 0. i. 1. 


The third hour of drowsy morning. R, F. iv. chorus. 

The silent hour steals on, 
And flaky darkness breaks within the east. E, III. v. 3. 
And yon grey lines that fret the clouds, 
Are messengers of day. J. C. ii. 1, 

This morning, like the spirit of youth 

That means to be of note, begins betimes. A. C. iv. 4. 

Swift, swift, you dragons of the night ! — that dawning 
May bare the raven's eye. Ci/m. ii. 2. 

But, look, the dawn, in russet mantle clad. 
Walks o'er the dew of yon high eastern hill. H. i. 1. 

The glow-worm shows the matin to be near, 
And 'gins to pale his ineffectual fire. JBT. i, 5. 

Night's swift dragons cut the clouds full fast; 
And yonder shines Aurora's harbinger ; 


DAW ^{jakrHiiEnrinH SirtinnEttj. dea 

DAWN, — continued. 

At whose approach, ghosts wand'ring here and there. 

Troop home to church-yards : damned spirits all, 

That in cross-ways and^ floods have burial, 

. Already to their wormy beds are gone. M. iV. iii. 2. 

The wolves have preyed; and look, the gentle day 

Before the wheels of Phoebus, round about 

Dapples the drowsy east with spots of grey. M. A, v. 3. 

The grey-eyM morn smiles on the frowning night 

Checkering the eastern clouds with streaks of light ; 

And flecked darkness like a drunkard reels 

From forth day's path-way made by Titan^s wheels. 

H. J, ii. 3. 
It was the lark, the herald of the morn. 
No nightingale : look, love, what envious streaks 
Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east : 
Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day 
Stands tip-toe on the misty mountain's top. E. J. iii. 5 . 
Look, the unfolding star calls up the shepherd. M. if. iv. 2. 


Even from Hyperion's rising in the east 

Until his very downfall in the sea. 

The stirring passage of the day. 

As when the golden sun salutes the morn. 

And having gilt the ocean with his beams, 

Gallops the zodiac in his glistering coach, 

And overlooks the highest peering Jiills. 

'Tis a lucky day, boy; and we'll do good deeds on't. 

W, T. iii. 3 
0, such a day, 
So fought, so follow' d, and so fairly won, 
Came not, till now, to dignify the times. 
Since Coesar's fortunes ! H. IV. ft. ii. i. 1. 

DEATH (See also Man, Time, Mighty Dead, Life, Soldier's 
The blind cave of eternal night. R. Ill, v. 3. 

Here is my journey's end ; here is my butt, 

And very sea-mark of my utmost sail. O. v. 2. 

ruin'd piece of nature ! this great world 

Shall so wear out to nought. K, L, iv. 6. 

Nay, nothing ; all is said : 

His tongue is now a stringless instrument ; 

Words, life, and all, old Lancaster hath spent. R, II. ii. I 


Tit And. 






Tit And. 



DEA llniktJjptnriaE lirtinHnrtj. dea 

DEATH,— coniinued. 
Dead, for my life. 
Even so ; — mj tale is told. i. L, y, 2. 

Have felt the worst of death's destroying wound 

And lie full low, graved in the hollow ground. E. 11. iii. 2. 

Art thou gone too ? all comfort go with thee ! 
For none abides with me : my joy is — death ; 
Death, at whose name I oft have been afeard. 
Because I wish'd this world's eternity. H. VL pt. ii. u. 4 

0, I do fear thee, Claudio ; and I quake 

Lest thou a feverous life should'st entertain, 

And six or seven winters more respect . 

Than a perpetual honour. M. 31, iii. 1 

I am a tainted wether of the flock, 

Moetest for death ; the weakest kind of fruit 

Drops earliest to the ground, and so let me. M. V, iv. 1 

All is but toys : renoAvn, and grace, is dead ; 
The wine of life is drawn, and the mere lees 
Is lefi this vault to brag of. M. ii. 3 

To-day, how many would have given their honours 

To have savM their carcasses ! took heel to do't, 

And yet died too I I, in mine own woe charm'd, 

Could not find death, where I did hear him groan ; 

.Nor feel him, where he struck. Ci/m. v. 3 

It is too late ; the life of all this blood 

Is touched corruptibly ; and his pure l)raln 

(Which some suppose the soul's frail dwelling house,) 

Doth, by the idle comments that it makes, 

Forotel the ending of mortality. K. /. v. 7 

So now prosperity begins to mellow. 

And drop into the rotten mouth of death, E. III. iv. 4. 

Thou know'st 'tis common ; all that live must die, 

Passing through nature to eternity. H, i. 2, 

This fell Serjeant death 
Is strict in his arrest. " 77. v. 5, 

Dost fall? 
If thou and nature can so gently part, 
The stroke of death is as a lover's pinch 
Which hurts and is desir'd. Dost thou lie still? 
If thus thou vanishest, thou tell'st the w^orld 
It is not worth leave-taking. A. C. v. 2. 

0, our lives' sweetness I 
That with the pain of death, we'd hourly die. 
Rather than die at once ! K. L. v. 3. 

DEA IjiRlttsptariiiii Birtiniinnj;. dea 

DEATH, — continued. 

'We must die, Mossala: 
"With moditatin^ that she must die once, 
I have the patience to endure it now. /. C. iv. 3. 

amiable, lovely death ! 
Thou odoriferous stench ! sound rottenness ! 
i\ rise forth from the couch of lasting night, 
Thou hate and terror to prosperity, 
And I will kiss thy detestable bones ; 
And put my eye-balls in thy vaulty brows ; 
And ring these fingers with thy household worms ; 
And stop this gap of breath with fulsome dust, 
And be a carrion monster like thyself: 
Come, grin on me ; and I will think thou smiFst ; 
And buss thee as thy wife ? Misery's love, 
0, come to me ! K. J. iii. 4. 

Eyes, look your last ! 
Arms, take your last eml)race ! and lips, you, 
The doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss 
A dateless bargain to engrossing death. R. J. v. 3. 

Stay but a little ; for my cloud of dignity 
Is held from falling with so weak a wind, 
That it will quickly drop. II. IV. ft. ii. iv. 4. 

Thy bones are marrowless, thy blood is cold ; 

Thou hast no speculation in those eyes 

Which thou dost glare with. M. iii. 4. 

0, my love ! my wife ! 
Death, that hath suck'd the honey of thy breath. 
Hath had no power yet upon thy beauty : 
Thou art not conquer'd ; beauty's ensign yet 
Is crimson in thy lips, and in thy chocks, 
And death's pale flag is no-t advanced there. E. J. v. 3. 

By medicine life may bo prolong'd, yet death 
Will seize the doctor too. Cym. v. 5. 

That we shall die, we know ; 'tis but the time. 
And drawing days out, that men stand upoji. /. C. iii. 1. 

' Cowards die many times before their deaths ; 
Tke valiant never taste of death but once. 
Of all the wondo-rs that I j'et have hoard, 
It seems to me most strange that men should fear ; 
Seeing that death, a necessary end. 
Will come when it will come. /. C. ii. 2. 

Close up his eyes, and draw the curtain close, ^ 

And let us all to meditation. //. VI. pt. it. iih 3. 

DEA lljaki^spiitiiiii Birtinunni, dva 

DEATH,— continued. 

Death remember' d, should be like a mirror, 

Who tells us, life's but a breath ; to trust it, error. 

2\P. i. 1, 
Oft have I seen a timely parted ghost, 
Of ashy semblance, meagre, pale, and bloodless, 
Being all descended to the labouring heart ; 
Who, in the conflict that it holds with death. 
Attracts the same for aidance Against the enemy ; 
Which, with the heart there cools and ne'er returneth 
To blush and beautify the cheek again. //. VI. pt. ii. iii. 2. 

The sleeping and the dead 
Are but as pictures : 'tis the eye of childhood 
That fears a painted devil. M. ii. 2. 

Finish, good lady, the bright day is done, 

And we are for the dark. A. C. v. 2. 

Dar'st thou die ? 
The sense of death is most in apprehension ; 
And the poor beetle that we tread upon. 
In corporal suiferanco feels a pang as great, 
As when a giant dies. 3L M. iii. 1. 

Though death be poor, it ends a mortal woe. R. II. ii. 1. 
you mighty gods ! 

'j'his world I do renounce ; and in your sights. 
Shake patiently my great affliction off: 
If I could bear it longer, and not flill 
To quarrel with your great opposeless wills. 
My snuff, and loathed part of nature, should 
Burn itself out. K. L. iv. G. 

Her blood is settled and these joints are stiff; 
Life and these lips have long been separated : 
Death lies on her, like an untimely frost 
Upon the sweetest flower of all the field. B. J. iv. 5 

To die, is to be banishM from myself. 2\G. iii. 1 

0, death's a great disguiser. M. M. iv. 2 

We cannot hold mortality's strong hand. K. J. iv. 2 

Ay, but to die, and go we know not where; 
To lie in cold obstruction, and to rot: 
This sensible warm motion to become 
A kneaded clod ; and the delighted spirit 
To bathe in fiery floods, or to reside 
In thrilling regions of thick-ribbed ice ; 
To be imprison'd in the viewless winds. 
And blown with restless violence round about 
The pendant world ; or to be worse than worst 

DBA iljEkEsptntiitn |}irtiniian{. dea 

DEATH, — continued. 

Of those, that lawless and incertain thoughts 

Imagine howling I — 'tis too horrible ! 

The weariest and most loathed worldly life, 

That age, ache, penury, and imprisonment 

Can lay on nature, is a paradise 

To what we fear of death. M. M. iii. 1. 

Where art thou, death ? 

Come hither, come ! come, come, and take a queen 

Worth many babes and beggars. A.C. v. 2. 

Art thou so bare, and full of wretchedness, 

And fear'st to die ? Famine is in thy cheeks, 

Need and oppression starveth in thy eyes. 

Upon thy back hangs ragged misery, 

The world is not thy friend nor the world's law. R. J. v. 1. 

Receive what cheer you may ; 
The night is long that never finds a day. M. iv. 3. 

Just death, kind umpire of men's miseries, 
AVith sweet enlargement doth dismiss me hence. 

H. VL FT. r. ii. 5. 
I am resolv'd for death or dignity. II. VI. pt. ii. v. 1. 

Ah, what a sign it is of evil life, 
When death's approaches seen so terrible ! 

H. VL PT. II. iii. 3. 
The worst is, — death, and death will have his day. 

11. IL iii. 2. 
He has walk'd the way of nature. H.IV. pt. ii. v. 2. 

Pr'ythee, have done, 
And do not play in wench-like words with that 
Which is so serious. Let us bury him, 
And not protract with admiration, what 
Is now due debt. To the grave. Cym. iv. 2. 


All good people, 

You that thus far have come to pity me, 

Hear what I say, and then go home and lose me. 

I have this day receiv'd a traitor's judgment, 

And by that name must die ; yet, heaven bear witneps, 

And if I have a conscience let it sink me, 

Even as the axe falls, if I be not faithful ! 

You few that lov'd me. 
And dare be bold to weep for Backingham, 
His noble friends, and fellows, whom to leave 
Is only bitter to him, only dying, 
Go with me like good angels, to my end ; 
And as the long di^vorce of steel falls on mo, 


PEA IliEltBHpiirinii Dirtiniinni. dea 

DEATH,— ^ontmued. 

Make of your prayers one sweet sacrifice, 

And lift my soul to heaven. Lead on, o^ God's name. 

E. rilL ii. 1. 

■ Falstafp. 

'A made a finer end, and went away an it had been any 
christom child ; 'a parted just between twelve and one ; — 
e'en at the turning of the tide : for after I saw him fumble 
with the sheets, and play with flowers, and smile upon his 
fingers, ends, I knew there was but one way ; for his nose 
was as sharp as a pen, and 'a babbled of green fields. 
How now, Sir John, quoth I : what, man ! be of good cheer. 
So 'a cried out, God ! — three or four times : now I, to com- 
fort him, bid him 'a should not think of God; I hoped there 
was no need to trouble himself with any such thouglits yet. 

Zf.F.ii. 3. 

-Gloucester, IIuMriiREY, Duke of. 

But, see, his fiice is black and full of blo.od ; 
His eye-balls further out than when he liv^d, 
Staring full ghastly like a strangled man ; 
His hair uprear'd, his nostrils stretch'd with struggling; 
His hands abroad displayed, as one that grasp'd 
And tugg'd for life, and was by strength subdued. 
Look on the sheets, his hair, 3^ou see, is sticking ; 
His well-proportion'd beard made rough and rugged. 
Like to the summer's corn by tempests lodg'd. 

H. VI. FT. II. iii. 2. 

King Henry IV. 

By his gates of breath, 
There lies a downy feather, which stirs not : 
Did he suspire, that light and weightless down 
Perforce must move. — My gracious lord ! my father ! 
This sleep is sound indeed ; this is a sleep, 
That from this golden rigol hath divorc'd 
So many English kings. H.IV, pt. ii. iv. 4, 

King Henry YI. 

I'll hear no more. — Die, prophet, in thy speech ; 

For this among the rest was I ordain'd. — 

What, will the aspiring blood of Lancaster 

Sink in the ground ? I thought it would have mounted. 

See, how my sword weeps for the poor king's death 1 

0, may such purple tears be always shed 

From those that wish the downfall of our house ! 

If any spark of life be yet remaining, 

Down, down, to hell ; and say, — I sent thee thither. 

H, VI. PT. Hi. T. 6. 

DEA |li{i.kJS|iHriiiti DtrtinHirrti;. dea 

DE^ Til, — continued. 
King John. 

Aye, marry, now my soul hath elbow room ; 

It would not out at windows nor at doors. 

There is so hot a summer in my bosom, 

That all my bowels crumble up to dust : 

I am a scribbled form, drawn with a pen, 

Upon a parchment ; and against this fire 

Do I shrink up. 

Prince Henry. — How fares your Majesty ? 

King John. — PoisonM, — ill fare ; — dead, forsook, cast off: 

And none of you will bid the winter come, 

And thrust his icy fingers in my maw ; 

Nor let my kingdom's rivers take their course 

Through my burn'd bosom ; nor entreat the north 

To make his break winds kiss my parched lips, 

And comfort me with cold : I do not ask you much, 

I beg cold comfort. 

{^Enter Falconhridge, 

cousin, thou art come to set mine eye : 

The tackle of my heart is crack'd and burn'd ; 

And all the shrouds wherewith my life should sail, 

Are turned to one thread, one little hair : 

My heart hath one poor string to stay it by, 

Which holds but till thy news be utter'd ; 

And then all this thou see'st is but a clod, 

And module of confounded royalty. K, J. v. 7. 

■ — Julius C^.sar. 

Et tu Brute f— Then fall, Caesar. /. C. iii. 1. 

How many ages hence, 
Shall this our lofty scene be acted over, 
In states unborn and accents yet unknown ! J". C. iii. 1. 

King Richard II. 

How now ? what means death in this rude assault ? 

Villain, thy own hand yields thy death's instrument. 

Go thou and fill another room in hell. 

That hand shall burn in never-quenching fire, 

That staggers thus my person. Exton, thy fierce hand 

Hath, with the king's blood, stain'd the king's own land. 

Mount, mount, my soul ! thy seat is up on high ; 

Whilst my gross flesh sinks downward here to lie. 

J^.J/.v. 5 
- Warwick, Earl op. 

Ah, who is nigh ? come to me, friend or foe. 

And tell me who is victor, York or Warwick ? 

Why ask I that 1 my mangled body shows, 

My blood, my want of strength, my sick heart shows, 

DFiA IjjakrHprariaii Sirtinniin);* dea 

That I must yiold my body to the earth, 
And, by my f\ill, the conquest to my fae. 

Thus yields the cedar. to the axe's edge, 
Whose arms gave sheltc.'r to the princely eagle, 
TJnder whose shade the ramping lion slept: 
. Whose top-branch overpeer'd Jove's spreading tree, 
And kept low shrubs from winter's powerful wind. 
These eyes that now are dimm'd with death^s black veil. 
Have been as piercing as the mid-day sun, 
To search the secret treasons of the world : 
The wrinkles in my brows now filTd with blood. 
Were liken'd oft to kingly sepulchres ; 
For .who livM king but I could dig his grave. 

Lo, now my glory, smearM in dust and blood ! 
My parks, my walks, my manors that I had, 
Even now forsake me ; and, of all my lands. 
Is nothing left me but my body's length I 
Why, what is pomp, rule, reign, but earth and dust ? 
And, live we how we can, yet, die we must. 

R. VL PT. III. V. 2. 

• WoLSEY, Cardinal. 

At last, with easy roads, he came to Leicester, 
Lodg'd in the abbey ; where the reverend abbot, 
With all his convent, honourably receiv'd him ; 
To whom he gave these words, — 0, father abbot, 
An old mariy broken with the storms of siate^ 
Is come to lay his weary bones among ye ; 
Give Mm a little earth for charity ! 
So went to bed : where eagerly his sickness 
Pursued him still ; and, three ^ays after this. 
About the hour of eight (which he himself 
Foretold should be his last,) full of repentance, 
Continual meditations, tears, and sorrows, 
H3 gave his honours to the world again, 
Ilis blessed part to heaven, — and slept in peace. 


• OP THE Illustrious, by vile hands. 

Great men oft die by vile bezonians : 
A Koman sworder and banditti slave, 
Murder'd sweet TuUy ; Brutus' bastard hand 
Stabbed Julius Caesar ; savage islanders 
Pompey the great : and Suffolk dies by pirates. 

M. VI. PT. II. iv. 1 

Contempt op. 

There spake my brother ; there my father's grave 
Did utter forth a voice ! Yes, thou must die : 


DEATH, — continued. 

Thou art too noble to conserve a life 

In base appliances. M, M. iii. 1, 

Levels Distinctions. 

Thersites' body is as good as Ajax' 

When neither are alive. Cym, iv. 2, 

■ Abides with the Luxurious. 

Being an ngly monster, 
'Tis strange he hides him in fresh cups, soft beds, 
Sweet words ; or hath more ministers than v^e 
Tliat draw his knives i' the war. Cym, v. 3, 

■ Relieves and prevents Miseries. 

Which shackles accidents, and bolts up change. A. C, v. 2. 

Duncan is in his grave ; 
After lifers fitful fever, he sleeps well ; 
Treason has done his worst : nor steel, nor poison, 
Malice domestic, foreign levy, nothing, 
Can touch him further. M. iii. 2. 

Had I but died an hour before this chance, 

I had liv'd a blessed time, for, from this instant, 

There^s nothing serious in mortality. if. ii. 3. 

Give me your hand, Bassanio ; fare you well? 

Grieve not that I am fallen to this for you ; 

For herein Fortune shows herself more kind 

Than is her custom : it is still her use, 

To let the wretched man outlive his wealth, 

To view with hollow eye and wrinkled brow. 

An age of poverty ; from which ling'ring penance 

Of such a misery doth she cut me off. M, V. iv. 1. 

Why, he that cuts off twenty years of life, 

Cuts off as many years of fearing death. J.C. iii. 1. 


Cut off even in the blossoms of my sin, 

Unhousel'd, disappointed, unanePd ; 

No reckoning made, but sent to my account 

With all my imperfections on my head. H. i. 5. 

DEATH BED Injunction. 

0, but they say, the tongues of dying men 

Enforce attention like deep harmony : 

Where words are scarce, they're seldom spent in vain : 

For they breathe truth, that breathe their words in pain. 

He, that no more may say, is listened more 

Than they whom youth and ease have taught to gloze ; 
More are men's ends marVd than their lives before : 


DEA IIiElvrHptEriiiH SirtiDiiani;. def 

DEATH BED Ixjuxctiox, — conilmied. 

The settin,2; sun, aiul music at the close, 
As the last taste of sweets, is swci^test last ; 
Writ in remembrance, more than thin2;s long past: 
Though Kichard my life's counsel \Yould not hear, 
My death's sad tale may yet undeaf his ear. 11. II. ii. 1, 


They have e'en put my breath from me, the slaves ; 
Creditors ! — devils. T. A. iii. 4. 

DEBTS, Desperate. 

These debts may well be calFd desperate onc%, for a 
madman owes 'em. T. A. iii. 4. 


My way of life 
Is falFn into the sear, the yellow leaf. if. v. 3 . 


You are abus'd, and, by some putter on 

That will be damnM for't; — would I knew the villain. 

Who builds his hope in air of your fair looks, 
Lives like a drunken sailor on a mast. R. IIL iii. 4. 


You see me here, you gods, a poor old man, 

As full of grief as age ; wretched in both. K. L. ii. 4. 

I am old now, 
And these same crosses spoil me. K. L. v. 3. 

Pray do not mock me : 
I am a very foolish fond old man, 
Fourscore and upward ; and to deal plainly, 
I fear I am not in my perfect mind. K. L. iv. 7. 

But on us both did haggish age steal on, 
And w^ore us out of act. A. W. i. 2, 


Thou art not vanquished. 
But cozen'd and beguiFd. K. L. v. 3. 


Defiance, traitors, hurl we in your teeth. /. C, v. 1. 

Thou, thou dost wrong me ; thou dissembler, thou : — 
Nay, never lay thy hand upon thy sword, 
I fear thee not. M, A, v. 1. 

What man dare, I dare : 
Approach thou like the rugged Russian bear, 


DEF iIj{ikE3|iMriiiH DirtiHHnn}, def 

DJ^TIA'^C^,— continued. 

The arm'd rhinoceros, or the Ilyrcan tyger, 

Take any shape but that, and my firm nerves 

Shall never tremble : Or, be alive again, 

And dare me to the desert with thy sword ; 

If trembling I inhibit thee, protest inQ 

The baby of a girl. M. iii. 4. 

And spur thee on, with full as many lies 

As may be holla'd in thy treacherous ear 

From sun to sun. E. II. iv. 1, 

Stand back, lord Salisbury, stand back, I say ; 

By heaven, I think my sword as sharp as yours : 

I would not have you, lord, forget yourself. 

Nor tempt the danger of my true defence ; 

Lest I, by marking of your rage, forget 

Your worth, your greatness, and nobility. K. J. iv. 3. 

Who sets me else ? by h&aven, I'll throw at all : 

I have a thousand spirits in one breast. 

To answer twenty thousand such as you. E. II. iv. 1. 

Health to you, valiant Sir, 

During all the question of the gentle truce ; 

But when I meet you arm^i, as black defiance, 

As heart can think, or courage oxecute. 1\C. iv. 1. 

Win me and wear me, — let him answer me, — 

Come, follow me, boy ; come, boy, follow mo : 

Sir boy, I'll whip you from your foining fence ; 

Nay, as I am a gentleman, I will. M. A. v. 1. 

What I did, I did m honour, 
Led by the impartial conduct of my soul ; 
And never shall you see that I will beg 
A ragged and forestalled remission. H. IV. pt. ii. v. 2. 

There is my gage, the manual seal of death, 
That marks thee out for hell : I say, thou liest. 
And will maintain what thou hast said, is false, 
In thy heart blood, though being all too base 
To stain the temper of my knightly sword. E. II. iv 1, 

If that thy valour stand on sympathies. 
There is my gage, Aumerle, in gage to thine : 
By that fair sun which shows me where thou stand'st, 
I heard thee say, and vauntingly thou spak'st it, 
That thou wert cause of noble Glo'ster's death. 
If thou deny'st it, twenty times thou liest ; 
And I will turn thy falsehood to thy heart, 
"Where it was forged, with my rapier's point. E, II. iv. 1. 
Shall I be flouted thus with dunghill grooms ! 

^.FI. PT. I. i. 3. 

S5 8 

DEF lljiik^spniriiiii Birtiniiani. bef 

DEFIANCE,— co/i/umecZ. 

Scorn, and defiance ; slight regard, contempt, 

And any thing that may not misbecome 

The mighty sender, doth he prize you at. H. V. ii. 4, 

Though I am not splenetive and rash, 
Yet have I in me something dangerous. 
Which let thy wisdom fear. II.Y,1. 

1 had rather chop this hand off at a blow, 
And with the other fling it at thy face. 
Than bear so low a sail to strike to thee. 

H.VL FT. III. V. 1. 

I will fight with him upon this theme. 
Until my eye-lids wdll no longer wag. II. v. 1. 

Let them pronounce the steep Tarpeian death. 
Vagabond exile, flaying ; pent to linger 
But with a grain a day, I would not buy 
Their mercy at the price of one fair word. C. iii. 3. 

You fools ! I and my fellows 
Are ministers of fate ; the elements 
Of whom your swords are temper'd, may as well 
Wound the loud winds, or with bemockM-at stabs 
Kill the still-closing waters, as diminish 
One dowle that's in my plume. T. iii 3* 

Thou injurious tribune ! 
"Within thine eyes sat twenty thousand deaths, 
Tn thy hands clutched as many millions, in 
Thy lying tongue both numbers, I would say. 
Thou liest, unto thee, with voice as free 
As I do pray the gods. C. iii. 3. 

Let them come ; 
They come like sacrifices in their trim, 
And to the tire-ey'd maid of smoky war, 
All hot and bleeding will we offer them ; 
The mailed Mars shall on his altar sit 
Up to the ears in blood. H. IV. pt. i. iv. 1» 

I do defy him, and I spit at him ; 

Call him a slanderous coward, and a villain. E. II. i. 1. 

Gentle heaven. 
Cut off all intermission ; front to front, 
Bring thou ^,his fiend of Scotland, and myself; 
"Within my sword's length set him ; if he 'scape, 
Heaven forgive him too 1 M. iv. 3- 

Let him do his spite : 

My services, wliich I have done the signiory 

Shall out-tongue his complaints, 0. i. 2. 

DEF |ljiiltBH|iHriiUi Sirtinimni. deg 


Why, love forswore me in my mother's woilib : 

And, for I should not deal in her soft lawn, 

She did corrupt frail nature with a bribe 

To shrink mine arm up like a wither\l shrub ; 

To make an enviovis mountain on my back, 

Where sits deformity to mock my body ; 

To shape my legs of an unequal size ; 

To disproportion me in every part ; 

Like to a chaos, or an unlick'd bear-whelp, 

That carries no impression like the dam. 

And am I then a man to be belov'd ? 

0, monstrous fault to harbour such a thou2;ht ! 

//. VI. FT. III. iii, 2, 

But I, — that am not shaped for sportive tricks, 
Nor made to court an amorous looking glass , 
I that am rudely stampt, and want love's majesty. 
To strut before a wanton ambling nymph ; 

1, that am curtaiFd of this fair proportion, 
Cheated of feature by dissembling nature, 
Deform'd, unfinish'd, sent before my time 

Into this breathing world, scarce half made up, 

And that so lamely and unfashionable, 

That dogs bark at me as I halt by them : — 

Why I, in this weak piping time of peace, 

Have no delight to pass away the time, 

Unless to spy my shadow in the sun, 

And descant on mine own deformity, B. IIL i. 1. 

But, 0, how vile an idol proves this god ! 

Thou hast, Sebastian, done good feature shame. 

In nature there's no blemish but the mind ; 

None can be call'd deform'd but the unkind: 

Virtue is beauty ; but the beauteous evil 

Are empty trunks, o'er-flourish'd by the devil. T. iV. iii. 4. 


But, woe the while ! our fathers* minds are dead, 

And we are govern'd by our mothers' spirits ; 

Our yoke and sufferance show us womanish. J.O. i. 3. 

0, that a mighty man of such descent. 

Of such possessions, and so high esteem. 

Should be infused with so foul a spirit ! T. S, Ind. 2, 

What a falling off was there ! jS". i. 5 

But now 'tis odds beyond arithmetic ; 

And manhood is calFd foolery, when it stands 

Against a falling fabric. C, iii. 1* 


DEG Ijiakj^purinn Birtinnartj;. del 

BEG^l^EUACY,— continued. 

For in the fatness of these pursy times, 
Virtue itself of vice must pardon beg. H. iii. 4. 

'Twas never merry world, since, of two usuries, the mer- 
riest was put down, and the worser allowed, by order of 
law, a furred gown to keep him warm ; and furred with fox 
and lambskins too, to signify that craft, being richer than 
innocency, stands for the facing. M.M. iii. 2. 

Shall it, for shame, be spoken in these days, 
Or fill up chronicles in time to come, 
That men of your nobility and power. 
Did 'gage them both in an unjust behalf, — 
As both of you, God pardon it ! have done ? 

H.IF. FT. I. i. 3 
The world is grown so bad. 
That wrens may prey where eagles dare not perch; 
Since every Jack became a gentleman, 
There's many a gentle person made a Jack. B. III. i. 3„ 


Now I must 
To the young man send humble treaties, dodge 
And palter in the shifts of lowness. A. C. iii. 9. 


So man and man should be ; 

But clay and clay differs in dignity 

Whose dust is both alike. Cym. iv. 2. 

DELAY (See also Irresolution, Opportunity). 
Omission to do what is necessary 
Seals a commission to a blank of danger ; 
And danger, like an ague, subtly taints 
Ev'n then when we sit idly in the sun. T.C» iii. 3. 

Sir, in delay 

AVe waste our lights in vain, like lamps by day. R. J. i. 4, 
Come, — I have learned that fearful commenting 
Is leaden servitor to dull delay ; 
Delay leads impotent and snail-pac^d beggary. 

B.III. iv. 3. 
Let^s be revenged on him ; let^s appoint him a meeting , 
give him a show of comfort in his suit ; and lead him on 
with a fine-baited delay. M. W. ii. 1 . 

0, my good lord^ that comfort comes too late ; 
^Tis like a pardon after execution ; 
That gentle physic, given in time, had cur'd me ; 
But now Tm past all comfort here, but prayervS. 


DEL IjiEkisjitariiiE Birtinnarij del 

DELICACY OF Idleness. 

The hand oi little employment hath the daintier sense. 

i£ V. i. 


All delights are vain ; but that most vain, 

Which, with pain purchas'd, doth inherit pain. i. L i. I. 

These violent delights have violent ends. 

And in their triumph die ; like lire and powder, 

Which, as they kiss, consume ; the sweetest honey 

Is loathsome in its own deliciousness, 

And in the taste confounds the appetite : 

Therefore, love moderately ; long love doth so ; 

Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow. R. J, ii. 6. 


vanity of sickness ! fierce extremes, 

In their continuance will not fet3l themselves. 

Death, having prey'd upon the outward parts, 

Leaves them insensible ; and his siege is now 

Against the mind, the which he pricks and wounds 

With many legions of strange fantasies ; 

Which, in their throng and press to that last hold, 

Confound themselves. 'Tis strange that death should sin^. 

1 am the cygnet to this pale-fac'd swan. 

Who chaunts a doleful hymn to his own death ; 

And, from the organ-pipe of frailty, sings 

His soul and body to their lasting rest. K. J, v. 7. 

DELUSION {See also Illusion). 

^Twas but a bolt of nothing, shot at nothing, 

Which the brain makes of fumes : our very eyes 

Are sometimes like our judgments, blind. Gym. iv. 2, 

Oftentimes, to win us to our harm, 
The instruments of darkness tell us truths ; 
Win us with honest trifles, to betray us 
In deepest consequence. M, i. 3. 

And be these juggling fiends no more believed, 
That palter with us in a double sense ; 
That keep the word of promise to our ear, 
And break it to our hope. M. v. 7. 

AVhy, thou hast put him in such a dream, that, when tho 
image of it leaves him, he must run mad. T. N, ii. 5 . 

Thus may poor fools believe false teachers. Cym, iii. 4, 

This is the very coinage of your brain ; 
This bodiless creation extacy 

Is very cunning in. H, iii. 4. 

89 8* 

DEL IliiikBspariaii Sirtinttnrtf, des 


Alas, liow is't with you ? 

That you do bend your eyes on vacancy, 

And with the incorporal air do hold discourse ? H. lii. 4 . 

It will but skin and film the ulcerous place ; 

Whiles rank corruption, mining all within, 

Infects unseen. H. iii. 4 

Indeed, it is a strange disposed time : 

But men may construe things after their fashion, 

Clean from the purpose of the thinp;s themselves. 

DENIAL OF Justice (See also. Judgment, Justice). 
And is this all ? 

Then, oh, you blessed ministers above, 
Keep me in patience ; and, with ripenM time, 
Unfold the evil which is here wrapp'd up 
In countenance ! M. M. v. 1. 

DEPRAVITY, Youthful. 

You're a fair viol, and your sense the strings ; 

Who, finger' d to make man his lawful music, " 

Would draw heaven down, and all the gods to hearken ; 

But, being play'd upon before your time, 

Hell only danccth at so harsh a chime. P. P. i. 1, 

DEPllIVATION OF THINGS discloses their Value. 
What our contempts do often hurl from ua. 
We wish it ours again. A.C» i. 2. 


A substitute shines brightly as a king. 

Until a king be by ; and then his state 

Empties itself, as doth an inland brook 

Into the main of waters. M. V. v. 1, 

In our remove, be thou at full ourself ; 

Mortality and mercy in Vienna 

Live in thy tongue and heart. M. M. i. 1. 

DERANGEMENT, Mental (See also Despondency, Madness). 
A sight most pitiful in the meanest wretch ; 
Past speaking of in a king. K. L. iv. 6, 


I have cried her almost to the number of her hairs; I 
have drawn her picture with my voice. P. P. iv. 3. 

0, he hath drawn my Dicture in his letter I L. L, v. 21 

desdemcna. ■ 

A maid 
That paragons description, and wild fame ; 

DEs Ijinkispatiaii I)irtiDiinrt[. des 

hESJ)E^101^ A,— coniimied. 

One that excels the quirks of blazoning pens, 

And in the essential vesture of creation, 

Does bear all excellency. 0. ii. 1. 

Tempests themselves, high sea-s, and howliug winds. 

The gutter'd rocks, and congregated sands, — 

Traitors ensteep'd, to clog the guiltless keel, — 

As having sense of beauty, do omit 

Their mortal natures, letting go safely by 

The divine Desdemona. 0. ii. 1. 


Use every man according to his desert, and who shall 
escape whipping? use them after your own honour and 
dignity : the less they deserve, the more merit is in your 
bounty. IL li. 2. 

0, your desert speaks loud ; and I should wrong it, 
To lock it in the wards of covert bosom. 
When it deserves, with characters of brass, 
A for ted residence, Against the tooth of time, 
And razure of oblivion. 31. M. v. 1. 

But let desert in pure election shine. Tit. And. i. 1. 


Ilim did you leave, 
Second to none, unseconded by you. H. IV. ft. ii. ii. 2. 


We call a nettle but a nettle ; and 

The fViults of fools but folly. C, ii. 1. 


The cloyed will 

(That satiate yet unsatisfied desire. 

That tub both fill'd and running) ravening first 

The lamb, longs after for the garbage. Cum. i. 7. 

Happy ! but most miserable 
Is the desire that's glorious. Blessed be those, 
How mean soe'er, that have their honest wills 
Which seasons comfort. Cym, 1. 7. 


I, an old turtle. 
Will wing me to some witherVi bough ; and there 
My mate, that's never to be found again. 
Lament till I am lost. W.T. v. 3, 

Then was I as a tree 
Whose boughs did bend with fruit ; but in one night, 
A storm, or robbery., call it what you will, 


DEs lljiilttHiiEiirinii Birtiniiiin[. de^ 

DESOLATION— co7^f/7mec^. 

Shook down my mellow hangings, nay, my leaves, 

And left me bare to whither. Cyni. iii. 3. 

Shipwrecked upon a kingdom, wdiere no pity, 

No friends, no hope ; no kindred w^eep for me, 

Almost no grave allow'd me ; — like the lily. 

That once w^as mistress of the field, and fiourisli'd, 

I'll hang my head and perish. II. VIII. iii. 1. 

Alack, and what shall good old York there see, 

But empty lodgings and unfurnished walls, 

L^npeopled offices, untrodden stones ? 

And w^hat cheer there for welcome but my groans ? 

Therefore commend me, let him not come there, 

To reek out sorrow that dwells every wdiere : 

Desolate, desolate, will I hence and die ; 

The last leave of Ihee takes my weeping eye. E. 11. i. 2 


There's nothing in this world can make me joy ; 

Life is as tedious as a twice told tale. 

Vexing the dull ear of a drowsy man. K. J. iii. 4 

I w^ill despair, and be at enmity 

With cozening hope ; he is a flatterer, 

A parasite, a keeper back of death, 

"Who gently would dissolve the bands of life, 

Which false hope lingers in extremity. B. IL ii. 2. 

Now let not Nature's hand 
Keep the wild flood confin'd ! Let order die ! 
And let this w^orld no longer be a stage. 
To feed contention in a lingering act ; 
But let one spirit of the first-born Cain 
Keign in all bosoms, that, each heart being set 
On l)loody courses, the rude scene may end, 
And darkness be the burier of the dead. H. IV, pt. ii. i. 1. 

sovereign mistress of true melancholy. 

The poisonous damp of night disponge upon me ; 

That life, a very rebel to my will. 

May hang no longer on me ; throw my heart 

Against the flint and hardness of my fixult ; 

Which, being dried with grief, will break to powder. 

And finish all foul thoughts. A. C. iv. 9. 

1 pull in resolution ; and begin 

To doubt the equivocation of th fiend, 

That lies like truth. M. v. 5. 

0, I am fortune's fool ! B. J. iii. 1. 

DESPAIR,— co/?iMi«ec?. 

I shall despair. — There is no creature loves me ; 

And, if I die, no soul will pity me ; — 

Nay, wherefore should they ? since that I myself 

Find in myself no pity to myself. Jl. III. v. 3. 

For now I stand as one upon a rock, 

EnvironM with a wilderness of sea ; 

Who marks the waxing tide grow wave by wave, 

Expecting ever when some envious surge 

Will, in his brinish bowels, swallow him. Tit. And, iii. 1 

They have tied me to the stake, I cannot fly, 

But, bear-like, I must fight the course. M. v. 7. 

Take the hint 
Which my despair proclaims ; let that be left 
Vv^hich leaves itself. A.C. iii. 9. 

I ^gin to be a-weary of the sun, 

And wish the estate of the world were now undone. M. v. 5. 
Your enemies, with nodding of their plumes, 
Fan you into despair. C. iii. 3. 

My very hairs do mutiny ; for the white 
Reprove the brown for rashness ; and they them 
For fear and doting. A. C, iii. 9. 


If it were done, when 'tis done, then 'twere well 
It were done quickly. M. i. 7. 

Come, to the forge with it then; shape it; I would not 
have things cool. M. W. iv. 2. 

It makes us, or it mars us ; think on that, 
And fix most firm thy resolution. 0. v. 1. 

Briefness, and fortune, work. K. L. ii. 1. 

We must do something, and i' the heat. K. L, i. 1. 


Some say he's mad ; others, that lesser hate him, 

Do call it valiant fury ; but for certain. 

He cannot buckle his distemper'd cause 

AVithin the belt of rule. M. v. 2. 

Fortune knows, 
We scorn her most when most she ofi'ers blows. A. C. iii. 9. 

Whip me, ye devils, 
From the possession of this heavenly sight ! 
Blow me about in winds ! roast me in sulphur! 
"\^'ash me in steep-down gulfs of liquid fire 1 
Desdemona ! 0. v. 2 

DEs llmkEHparinii DirtinnErii:. des 

DESPERATION,— co?i/«iMe(i 

Our enemies have beat us to the pit : 

Ifc is more worthy to leap in ourselves, 

Than tarry till they push us. J,C. v. 5. 

Yet I will try the last : Before my body 

I throw my warlike shield ; lay on, Macduff; 

And damned be he that first cries "Hold! Enough!'' 

Jf. V. 7. 
Ring the alarum bell : Blow wind, come wrack ! 
At least we'll die with harness on our back. ' ilf. v. 5. 
The time and my intents are savage wild ; 
More fierce and more inexorable far 
Than empty tigers, on the roaring sea. E. J. v. 3. 

Now could I drink hot blood, 
And do such business as the bitter day 
Would quake to look on. H. iii. 2. 

No, I defy all counsel, all redress, 
But that which ends ail counsel, true redress, 
Death, death. K. J. iii. 4. 

all you host of heaven ! earth ! — what else ? 

And shall I couple hell ? — fie ! — Hold, hold, my heart ; 

And you, my sinews, grow not instant old. 

But bear me stiffly up. . H. i. 5. 

Ah, women, women ! come ; we have no friend 

But resolution and the briefest end. A, C. iv. 13. 

DESPONDENCY (See also Derangement, Madness). 

1 am not mad ; I would to heaven I were ! 
For then, 'tis like I should forget m3'self : 

0, if I could, what grief should I forget ! K. J. iii. 4. 

Preach some philosophy to make me mad, 

And thou shalt be canonized, cardinal ; 

For, being not mad, but sensible of grief, 

My reasonable part produces reason 

How I may be d^diver'd of these woes, 

And teaches me to kill or hang myself. K. J. iii. 4. 

I am sick of this false world ; and will love nought 

But even the mere necessities upon it. 

Then, Timon, presently prepare thy grave ; 

Lie, where the light foam of the sea may beat 

Thy grave-stone daily. T. A. iv. 3- 

How stiff is my vile sense, 
That I stand up and have ingenious feeling 
Of my huge sorrows ! better I were distract ; 
So should my thoughts be severed from my griefs ; 


DEs IjialtEHpariiiH Dirtiniiani, dkt 

DESVONDElsOY —continued. ^ 

And woes, by wrong imaginations, lose 

The knowledge of themselves. K, L. iv. 6, 

O, that this too, too solid flesh would melt, 

^J'haw, and resolve itself into a dew ! 

Or, that the everlasting had not lix\l 

Ilis canon Against self-slaughter ! God ! God ! 

How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable, 

Seem to mo all the uses of this world ! 

Fie on't ! fie on't ! His an unweeded garden. 

That grows to seed ; things rank, and gross in nature, 

Possess it merely. H. i. 2, 

Even here I will put off my hope, and keep it 

No longer for my flatterer. 21 ili. 3. 

I have not that alacrity of spirit 

Nor cheer of mind that I was wont to have. R. III. v. 8 

Nothing ril bear from thee 
But nakedness, thou detestable town ! 
Timon will to the woods ; where he shall find 
The unkindest beast more kinder than mankind. 

T. A. iv. 1. 
What say you now? what comfort have we now? 
By heaven, I'll hate him everlastingly, 
That bids me be of comfort any more. B. IL iii. 2. 


All unavoided i^ the doom of destiny. B, III. iv. 4. 

The lottery of my destiny 
Bars me the right of voluntary choosing • M.V. ii. 1. 

The antient saying is no heresy : — 

Hanging and wiving go by destiny. M. V. ii. 9. 

^Tis destiny unshunnable, like death. 0. iii. 3. 


Who gives any thing to poor Tom ? K. L. iii. 4. 


When nobles are their tailors' tutors. K. L. iii. 2. 

The man was noble. 

But with his last attempt he wip'd it out. 0. v. 3. 

DETERMINATION (See also Resolution). 
I have given suck ; and know 
How tender His, to love the babe that milks me: 
I would, while it was smiling in my face. 
Have pluck'd my nipple from his boneless gums, 
And dash'd the brains out, had I so sworn as 
You have done to this. M, i. !• 


DET I'ljnktsjitnrinH Dirtinnnrii. pev 

BETEllMmATlOl^,— continued. 

I'll speak to it, though hell itself should gape, 

And bid me hold my peace. H. i. 2. 

Cannot, is false ; and that I dare not, falser ; 

I will not come to-day: tell them so, Decius. J.C. ii. 2, 

Shall I stay here to do't ; no, no, although 

The air of paradise did f\in the house, 

And angels officM all : I will be gone. A. W. iii. 2. 

It w^as my will and grant ; 
And for this once, my will shall stand for law. 

H.VL FT. in. iv. 1. 

Then all too late comes counsel to be heard, 

AVhere will doth mutiny with wit's regard. E. II. ii. 1. 

My resolution, and my hands I'll trust ; 

None about Cgesar. A.C. iv. 13. 

I am fire and air ; my other elements 

I give to baser life. A. C. v. 2. 


Ay, an you had any eye behind you, you might see 
more detraction at your heels than fortunes before you. 

7'.A^;ii. 5. 

Happy are they that hear their detractions, and put 
them to mending. M. A. ii. 3. 


What a slave art thou to hack thy sword as thou hast 
done ; and then say, it was in fight 1 H. IV. pt. i. ii. 4. 


Heaven prosper our sport ! No one means evil but the 
devil, and we shall know him by his horns. M. W. v. 1 
A devil, a born devil, on whose nature 
Nurture can never stick ; on whom my pains, 
Humanely taken, all, all, quite lost ; 
And as, with age, his body uglier grows, 
So his mind cankers. T. iv. 1 


My heart's subdued 
Even to the very quality of my lord : 
I saw Othello's visage in his mind ; 
And to his honour and his valiant parts. 
Did I my soul and fortur;es consecrate. 0. i. 3. 

My best attires : — I am again for Cydnus, 
To meet Marc Antony. A.C.\.1. 

Yours in the ranks of death. K. L. iv. 2. 

OEV |IialvB5|iBariau Birtinnani. din 

DEYOTJON, —contlnned. 

A true devoted pilgrim is not weary 

To measure kiLgdoms Avith his feeble steps. T.G, ii. 7. 

Vouchsafe to shoAv the sunshine of your face, 

That we, like savages, may worship it. L. L. v. 2. 

From the four corners of the earth they come, 

To kiss this shrine, this mortal breathing saint. 

M. V. ii. 7. 

- Pious. 

With modest paces 

Came to the alta];, where she kneeFd, and saint-like 
Cast her fair eyes to heaven, and prayM devoutly. 

H. VIIL iv. 1. 


And that same dew which sometime on the buds 

Was wont to swell, like round and orient pearls, 

Stood now within the pretty flow'ret's eyes, 

Like tears that did their own disgrace bewail. M. K. iv. 1. 

I must go seek some dew-drops here, 

And hang a pearl on every cowslip's ear. M. N. ii. 1. 

As fresh as morning dew distilFd on flowers. 

Tit. And. ii. 4. 


A tardiness in nature, 
Which often leaves the history unspoke, . 
That it intends to do. K. L. i. 1. 


Master Robert Shallow, choose what office thou wilt in 
the land, His thine. — Pistol, I will double charge thee with 
dignities. II. IV. ft. ii. v. 3. 

Nothing but death, 
Shall e'er divorce my dignities. II. VIIL iii. 1. 


Shifted out of thy tale, into telling .me of the fashion. 

M. A. iii. 3. 

He'll watch the horologe a double set. O. ii. 3. 


He had not dinM : 
The veins unfill'd, the blood is cold, and then 
We pout upon the morning, are unapt' 
To give or to forgive ; but when we have stufiTd 
These pipes and these conveyances of our blood 

97 r 

DIN lljiiktBjitiiriiiii I)irtiniiiin(. ms 

DINNER,-— continued. 

With wine and feeding, we have suppler souls 

Than in our priest-like fasts ; therefore I'll watih him 

Till he be dieted to my request, 

And then Til set upon him. O. v. 1. 


I cannot sing : V\\ weep, and word it with thee ; 

For notes of sorrow, out of tune, are worse 

Than priests and fanes that lie, Cym. iv. 2. 


Checks and disasters 
Grow in the veins of actions highest rfiar'd ; 
As knots, by the conflux of meeting sap. 
Infect the sound pine, and divert his grain 
Tortive and errant from his course and growth. T. C. i. 3. 

Why then, you princes, 
Do you with cheeks abashed behold our works ; 
And think them shames, which are, indeed, nought else, 
But the protractive trials of great Jove. T. C. i. 3. 


You shall see, anon ; 'tis a knavish piece of work. 

E. iii. 2. 

What's more miserable than discontent? 

R, VL FT. II. iii. 1. 

Happiness courts thee in her best array ; 

But like a misbehavM and sullen wench, 

Thou pout'st upon thy fortune and thy love: 

Take heed, take heed, for such die miserable. i?. /. iii. 3, 

With what a majesty he bears himself; 

How insolent of late he is become. 

How proud, peremptory, and unlike himself! 

H, VL FT. II. iii. 1. 

< Popular. 

And the pretence for this 

Is namM, your wars in France : this makes bold mouths ; 

Tongues spit their duties out, and cold hearts freeze 

Allegiance in them ; their curses now. 

Live where their prayers did; and it's come to pass, 

That tractable obedience is a slave 

To each incensed will. H. VIIL i. 2. 


For 'tis not good that children should know any wicked- 
ness : old folks, you know, have discretion, as they say, and 
know the world. M. W, ii. 2. 


Dis llmktsiitEtiaii Dittinnan}* dis 


Disguise, I see thou art a wickedness, 

Wherein the pregnant enemy does much. T, N, ii. 2. 


0, good old man, how well in thee appears 

The constant service of the antique world, 

When service sweat for duty, not for meed ! 

Thou art not for the fashion of these times, 

Where none will sweat but for promotion ; , 

And having that, do choke their service up, 

Even with the having. A, Y. ii. 3. 


Alas, I had rather be set quick i' the earth, 

And bowl'd to death with turnips. 3f. W, iii. 4. 

DISMAY (See also Fear, Terror). 

Thou tremblest, and the whiteness in thy cheek 

Is apter than thy tongue to tell thy errand. 

Even such a man, so faint, so spiritless, 

So dull, so dead in look, so woe-begone. 

Drew Priam^s curtain in the dead of night, 

And would have told him half his Troy was burnM. 

But Priam found the fire, ere he his tongue. 

H, IV. PT. n i. 1. 
His death (whose spirit lent a fire 
Even to the dullest peasant in his camp,) 
Being bruited once, took fire and heat away 
From the best temper^ courage in his troops ; 
For from his metal was his party steel'd ; 
AVhich once in him abated, all the rest 
Turn'd on themselves, like dull and heavy lead. 
And as the thing that's heavy in itself, 
Upon enforcement, flies with greater speed ; 
So did our men, heavy in Hotspur's loss, 
Lend to this weight such lightness with their fear, 
That arrows fled not swifter toward their aim. 
Than did our soldiers, aiming at their safety. 
Fly from the field. If. IV, ft. ii. i. 1 


Cassio, I love thee ; 
But never more be officer of mine. 0. ii. 3. 

How I what does his cashier'd worship mutter ? 

T. J, iii. 4. 


DLsmissM me 
Thus, with his speechless hand. O T. L 


Dis lljakt^piiriiiii Sirtinnnrti:. pis 


But they did no more adhere and keep place together, 
than the hundredth psalm to the tune of Green Sleeves. 

M. W. ii. 1, 
For night owls shriek, where mounting larks should sing. 

B. II. iii. 3. 

Our army is dispersed already ; 
Like youthful steers unyok'd, they take their courses 
East, west, north, south ; or, like a school broke up, 
Each hurries towards his home and sporting place. 

II. IV, PT. II. iv. 2. 

Our rash faults 
Make trivial price of serious things we have, 
Not knowing them until we know their grave. 
Oft our displeasures, to ourselves unjust. 
Destroy our friends, and after, weep their dust: 
Our own love waking cries to see what's done, 
While shameful hate sleeps out the afternoon. A. W, v. 3. 


0, the more angel she, 
And you the blacker devil. 0. v. 2. 


Look where he comes ! Not poppy, nor mandragora, 

Nor all the drowsy syrups of the world. 

Shall ever med'cine thee to that sweet sleep 

AYhich thou ow'dst yesterday. 0. iii. 3. 

Indeed, indeed. Sirs, but this troubles me. H. i. 2. 

DISSIMULATION (See Hvpocrisy, Quoting Scripture). 
We are oft to blame in this ; — 
'Tis too much provM, — that with devotion's visage, 
And pious action, we do sugar o'er 
The devil himself. H. iii. 1. 

Divinity of hell ! 
When devils will their blackest sins put on. 
They do suggest at first with heavenly shows. 0. ii. 3. 

If I do not put on a sober habit, 
Talk with respect, and swear but now and then, 
Wear prayer-books in my pocket, look demurely ; 
Nay more, while grace is saying, hood mine eyes 
Tl us — with hat, and sigh, and say, amen ; 
Use all the observance of civility, 
Like one well studied in a sad ostent 
To please his grandam, never trust me more. M. F. ii. 2. 


ms lljiikfspiiriiiii Sirtinnartf. dis 


Why, I can smile, and murder while I smile ; 

And cry content to that which grieves my heart ; 

And wet my cheeks with artificial tears, 

And frame my face to all occasions. H. VL pt. hi. iii. 2. 

Though I do hate him as I do hell pains, 

Yet, for necessity of present life, 

I must show out a flag and sign of love, 

Which is indeed but sign. 0. i. 1. 

Where we are 
There's daggers in men's smiles ; the near in blood, 
The nearer bloody. M. ii. 3. 

In following him I follow but myself; 

Heaven is my judge, not I for love or duty, 

But seeming so, for my peculiar end : 

For when^ny outward action doth demonstrate 

The native act and figure of my heart 

In compliment extern, 'tis not long after, 

But I will wear my heart upon my sleeve, 

For daws to peck at. I am not what I am. 0. i. 1. 

To beguile the time. 
Look like the time ; bear welcome in your eye, 
Your hand, your tongue : look like the innocent flower. 
But be the serpent under it. M. i. 5. 

Away, and mock the time with fairest show, 

False face must hide what the false heart doth know. M. i. 7. 

Good now, play one scene, 
Of exceUent dissembling ; and let it look 
Like peirfect honour. A.C.i.Z, 

Hide not thy poison with such sugar'd words. 

//. F/.PT. II. iii. 2. 

And with a countenance as clear 
As friendship wears at feasts. W. T, i. 2, 

You vow, and swear, and super-praise my parts. 

When I am sure you hate me in your hearts. M. X. iii. 2. 

As I, perchance, hereafter shall think meet 

To put an antic disposition on. II. i. 5. 


Art thou ofiicer, 
Or art thou base, common, and popular ? E, Y. iv. 1 

- Unbecoming. 

It lies as sightly on the back of him, 

As great Alcides' shoes upon an ass. K. J. ii. 1 

101 9» 

Dis lljakrHpariati Bittinimni. dov 


Contending with the fretful elements ; 

Bids the winds blow the earth into the sea, 

Or swell the curled waters 'bove the main, 

That things might change or cease : tears his white hair ; 

Which the impetuous blasts, with eyeless rage, 

Catch in their fury and make nothing of: 

Strives in his little world of man to outscorn 

The to-an-fro-conflicting wind and rain. K,L, iii. 1. 


The thorny point 
Of bare distress hath ta'en from me the show 
Of smooth civility. A.Y. ii. 7. 


Who rather had, 
Though they themselves did sutler by't, behold 
Dissentious numbers pestering streets, than see 
Our tradesmen singing in their shops, and going 
About their functions freely. Cv. 6. 


When that the general is not like the hive, 

To whom the foragers shall all repair, 

What honey is expected ? T.C. i. 3. 

How, in one house, 
Should many people, under two commands. 
Hold amity I ^Tis hard, almost impossible. K. L. ii. 4. 

Away ! By Jupiter, 
This shall not be revok'd. K.L. i. 1. 


The brains of my Cupid's knocVd out ; and 1 begin to 
love, as an old man loves money, wdth no stomach. 

A. W. iii. 2, 

DOVER Cliffs. 

How fearful 
And dizzy His to cast one's eyes below ! 
The crows, and choughs, that wing the midway air, 
Show scarce so gross as beetles : Half way down 
Hangs one that gathers samphire ; dreadful trade 1 
Methinks he seems no bigger than his head: 
The fishermen, that walk upon the beach. 
Appear like mice ; and yon tall anchoring bark, 
Oiminish'd to her cock ; her cock, a buoy. 
Almost too small for sight: The murmuring surge, 
That on the unnumber'd idle pebbles chafes, ' 


Dov lliaktsjiioriaii SirtinHttrij. dee 

DOVER Cliffs, — continued. 

Cannot be heard so high : 1^11 look no more ; 

Lest my brain turn, and the deficient sight 

Topple down headlong. K. L. iv. 6. 


The best of this kind are but shadows ; and the worst 
are no worse, if imagination amend them. if. N. v. 1. 


I talk of dreams ; 
AVhich are the children of an idle brain, 
Begot of nothing but vain fantasy ; 
Which is as thin of substance as the air ; 
And more inconstant than the wind, which wooes 
Even now the frozen bosom of the north, 
And, being anger'd, puffs away from tbonce, 
Turning his face to the dew-dropping south. B. J. i. 4. 

I have had a m'^st rare virion. I have had a dream ; — 
past the wit of man to say what dream it was. Man is 
but an ass if he go about to expound this dream. 

M. iV. iv. 1. 
^Tis still a dream ; or else such stuff as madmen 
Tongue and brain out ; either both, or nothing ; 
Or senseless speaking, or a speaking such 
As sense cannot untie. Be what it is, 
The action of my life is like it, which 

I'll keep, if but for sympathy. Ci/m. v. 4. 

By the apostle Paul, shadows to-night 
Have struck more terror to the soul of Richard, 
Than can the substance of ten thousand soldiers. 
Armed in proof, led on by shallow Richmond. JR. III. v. 3. 

Poor wretches, that depend 
On greatness' favour, dream as I have done, 
Awake, and find nothing. Cym. v. 4. 

This is the rarest dream that e'er dull sleep 
Did mock sad fools withal. P. P. v. 1. 

In thy faint slumbers, I by thee have watch'd, 
And heard thee murmur tales of iron wars : 
Speak terms of manage to thy bounding steed ; 
Cry, Courage! — to the field! And thou hast talk'd 
Of sallies, and retires ; of trenches, tents, 
Of palisadoes, frontiers, parapets ; 
Of basilisks, of cannon, culverin ; 
Of prisoners' ransom, and of soldiers slain, 
And all the currents of a heady fight. H. IV. PT I- ii. 3, 
Thy spirit within thee hath been so at war, 


DRE Ijmltfspiiriitii iirtinnartj;. drb 

DB.EAMS,— continued. 

And thus hath so bestirred thee in thy sleep, 

That beads of sweat have stood upon thy brow, 

Like bubbles on a late disturbed stream : 

And in thy face strange motions have appear'd, 

Such as we see when men restrain their breath 

On some great sudden haste. H. IV, pt. i. ii. 3. 

There is some ill a-brewing toward my rest, 

For I did dream of money bags to-night. M. V. ii. 5. 

Let not our babbling dreams aifright our souls. E, III. v. 3. 

There are a kind of men so loose of soul, 

That in their sleeps will mutter their affairs. 0. in. 3. 

PRESS (See also Advice to a Young Man). 

For ^tis the mind that makes the body rich ; 

And as the sun breaks through the darkest clouds, 

So honour peereth in the meanest habit. T. S. iv. 3. 

What, is the jay more precious than the lark, 

Because his feathers are more beautiful ? 

Or is the adder better than the eel, 

Because his painted skin contents the eye ? T. S. iv. 3. 

And now, my honey love, 
We will return unto thy father's house ; 
And revel it as bravely as the best ; 
With silken coats, and caps, and golden rings, 
With ruffs, and cuffs, and farthingales, and things : 
With scarfs, and fans, and double change of bravery. 
And amber bracelets, beads, and all this knavery. 

The tailor stays thy leisure, 
To deck thy body with his rustling treasure. T. S. iv. 3 
My dukedom to a beggarly denier, 
I do mistake my person all this while : 
Upon my life, she finds, although I cannot, 
Myself to be a marvellous proper man. 
I'll be at charges for a looking-glass ; 
A nd entertain a score or two of tailors, 
To study fashions to adorn my body. 
Since I am crept in favour with myself, 
I will maintain it with son>e little cost. R, III. i. 2. 

The gown ? why, ay ; — Come, tailor, let us see't. 
uiercy, God I what masking stuff is here ? 
AVhat's this ? a sleeve ? 'tis like a demi-cannon : 
What! up and down, oarv'd like an apple-tart? 
Here's snip, and nip, and cut, and slish, and slasL, 
Like to a censer in a barber's shop : — 
Why, what, o' devil's name, tailor, call'st thou this ? 

T. S. iv. 3. 


DRE |liEltBS|iEEriiiu Birtinimnj;. dru 

DKESS, — continued. 

Cloten. — Thou villain base, 
Know'st thou not me by my deaths ? 

Guiderius. — No, nor thy tailor, rascal, 
Who is thy grandfather : he made those cloaths, 
Which, as it seems, make thee. Cym. iv. 2. 

1 will never trust a man again for keeping his sword 
clean; nor believe he can have every thing in him for 
keeping hist apparel neatly. A. W. iv. 3. 


Lord ! methought what pain it was to drown ! 
What dreadful noise of water in my ears ! 
Wha.t sights of ugly death within mine eyes ! 
Methought 1 saw a thousand fearful wrecks ; 
A thousand men that fishes gnawed upon. IL III. i. 4. 

Often did I strive 
To yield the ghost; but still the envious flood 
Kept in my soul, and would not let it forth 
To seek the empty, vast, and wand'ring air : 
But smother'd it within my panting bulk, 
Which almost burst to belch it in the sea. R, III. i. 4. 

A pox of drowning thyself! it is clean out of the way. 

0. i. 3. 


Strike up the drums : and let the tongue of war 

Plead for our interest. K. J. v. 2. 

Do but stir 
An echo with the clamour of thy drum, 
And even at hand a drum is .ready brac'd, 
That shall reverberate all as loud as thine ; 
Sound but another, and another shall, 
As loud as thine, rattle the welkin's ear, 
And mock the deep mouth' d thunder. K. J. v. 2. 

He's a good drum, my lord, but a naughty orator. 

A. W. V. 3. 

I'll no more drumming; a plague of all drums. 

A.W.iy, 3. 

DRUNKARD (See Wine). 

A howling monster : a drunken monster. T. iii. 2. 

that men should put an enemy into their mouths, 
to steal away their brains ! — that we should, with joy, 
revel, pleasure, and applause, transform ourselves into 
beasts 1 0. ii. 3. 


DRU ijjiilvBspiiriiiti Dirtinnflti];. due 

DRUNKARD,— confmzi^cZ. 

monstrous beast ! — how like a swine* he lies I 

T, S, Ind. 1. 

When he is best, he is little Avorse than a man ; and 
when he is worst, he is little better than a beast. 

• M, W. i. 2. 

Every inordinate cup is unblessed, and the ingredient is 
a devil. 0. ii. 3. 

Like a drowned man, a fool, and a madman ; one draught 
above heat makes him a fool ; the second mads him ; and 
a third drowns him. T, N. i. 4. 

You see this fellow that is gone before ; — 
lie is a soldier fit to stand by Caesar 
And give direction : and do but see liis vice ; 
'Tis to his virtue a just equinox, 
The one as long as th' other. 0, ii. 3. 

1 will ask him for my place again ; he shall tell me, I 
am a drunkard ! Had I as many mouths as Hydra, such 
an answer would stop them all. To be now a sensible 
man, by and by a fool, and presently a beast. 0. ii. 3. 
One drunkard loves another of the name. L. L. iv. 3. 
He'll be as full of quarrel and offence 

As my young mistress' dog. 0. ii. 3, 

I will, like a true drunkard, utter all to thee. M. A. iii. 3. 

And now, in madness. 
Being full of supper, and distempering draughts, 
Upon malicious bravery dost thou come, 
To start my quiet. " . 0. i. 1. 

They were red hot with drinking ; 
So full of valour that they smote the air 
For breathing in their faces ; beat the ground 
For kissing of their feet. T. iv. 1. 

^ Do not think, gentlemen, I am drunk ; — this is my an, 
tient; — this is my right hand, and this my left hand :— I ' 
am not drunk : — I can stand well enough ; and speak well 
enough : Why, very well then ; you must not think then 
that I am drunk. 0. ii, 3, 


ril ne'er be drunk whilst I live again, but in honest, 
civil, godly company, for this trick ; if I be drunk, Fll be 
drunk with those that have the fear of God; and not with 
drunken knaves. M. W. i. 1. 


Room for the incensed worthies. i. Z, v. 2, 


DUE |!iiihs|iBitriatt UirtiniiEni;* dup 

DVFjLLIST,— continued. 

Thou art one of those fellows, that, when he enters the 
confines of a tavern, claps me his sword upon the table, 
and says, God send me no need of thee 1 and, by the ope- 
ration of the second cup, draws it on the drawer, when, 
indeed, there is no need. B. J. iii. 1. 

If wrongs be evils, and enforce us kill, 
What folly 'tis to hazard life for ill. T,A, iii. 5. 

Your vvords have took such pains, as if they laboured 
To bring manslaughter into form, set quarrelling 
Upon the head of valour ; which, indeed, 
Is valour misbegot, and came into the world 
When sects and factions were but newly born. T. A. iii. 5. 
He is a devil in a private brawl : souls and bodies hath 
he divorced three ; and his incensement at this, moment is 
so implacable, that satisfaction can be none but by pangs 
of death and sepulchre ; hob, nob, is his word ; give't, or 
take't. T, N, iii. 4. 

DUEL Preyented. 

Boys of art, I have deceived you both ; I have directed 
you to wrong places : your hearts are mighty, and your 
skins are whole, and let burnt sack be the issue. 

M.W, in. 1, 


Cudgel your brains no more about it ; for your dull ass 
will never mend his pace with beating. I£, v. 1. 


They answer, in a joint and corporate voice. 

That now they are at fall, want treasure, cannot 

Do what they would ; are sorry — you are honourable, — • 

But yet they could have wished — they knew not — but 

Something hath been amiss — a noble nature 

May catch a wrench — would all were well — His pity — 

And so, intending other serious matters. 

After distasteful looks, and these hard fractions, 

With certain half caps, and cold moving nods, 

They froze me into silence. T. A. ii. 2. 


Whose nature is so far from doing harms. 
That he suspects none ; on whose foolish honesty 
My practices ride easy. K.L. i. 2, 


EAG |liElvE3|iBiiriaii Birtiniiai!|. elo 



My desire, 
More sharp than filed steel, did spur me forth. T, N. iii. 3. 


Diseased nature oftentimes breaks forth 

In strange eruptions : and the teeming earth 

Is with a kind of cholic pincliM and vex'd 

By the imprisoning of unruly wind 

Within her womb ; which, for enlargement striving, 

Shakes the old beldame earth, and topples down 

Steeples and moss-grown towers. II. IV. pt. i. iii. 1. 

ECHO. ' 

Let us sit, 
And, whilst the babbling echo mocks the hounds. 
Replying shrilly to the well-tun'd horns. 
As if a double hunt were heard at once. Tit. And. ii. 3. 

My hounds shall make the welkin answer them, 
And fetch shrill echoes from the hollow earth. T. S. Ind. 2. 
The reverberate hills. T. JSf. i. 5. 

The babbliug gossip of the air. T. N. i. 5, 

EFFORTS, Abortive. 

How my achievements mock me ! T. C. iv. 2. 


There's not one wise man among twenty that will praise 
himself. M. A. v. 4. 


The Elephant hath joints, but none for courtesy: his 
legs are legs for necessity, not for flexure. 2\C. ii. 3. 


I have 
Immortal longings in me. A.C v. 2. 


Some there are 
Who on the tip of their persuasive tongue 

Carry all arguments and questions deep ; 
And replication prompt, and reason strong. 

To make the weeper smile, the laugher weep. 
They have the dialect and different skill, 
Catching all passions in their craft of will. 


ELo iliaItt0|iBartaE Birtinininj. emo 

'ELOQV'El^^CE,— continued. 

That in the general bosom they do reign 

Of young and old, and either sex enchain. Poems, 

When rank Thersites opes his mastiff jaws 

We shall hear music, wit and oracle. T.C» i. 3. 

ELVES (See also Faries, Spirits). 

Ye elves of hills, brooks, standing lakes, and groves ; 

And ye, that on the sands with printless foot 

Do chace the ebbing Neptune, and do fly him, 

When he comes back ; you demi-puppets, that 

By moonshine do the green-sour ringlets make, 

AVhereof the ewe not bites ; and you, whose pastime 

Is to make midnight mushrooms ; that rejoice 

To hear the solemn curfew ; by whose aid 

(Weak masters though you be) I have be-dimm^d 

The noontide sun, call'd forth the mutinous winds, 

And twixt the green sea and the azurM vault 

Set roaring war : to the dread rattling thunder 

Have I given fire, and rifted Jove's stout oak 

With his own bolt : the strong bas'd promontory 

Have I made shake ; and by the spurs pluck'd up 

The pine and cedar: graves at my command. 

Have wak'd their sleepers ; ope'd and let them forth 

By my so potent art : but this rough magic 

I here abjure: and, when I have requir'd 

Some heav'nly music (which even now I do) 

To work mine end upon their senses, that 

This airy charm is for, I'll break my staff, 

Bury it certain fathoms in the earth. 

And deeper than did ever plummet sound, 

I'll drown my book. T, v, 1. 

EMBLEM (See Roses of York and Lancaster). 

EMOTION (See also Passions). 


I have felt so many quirks of joy, and grief, 

That the first face of neither, on the start, 

Can woman me unto't. A. W. iii. 2. 


You have seen 
Sunshine and rain at once. Those happy smiles 
That play'd on her ripe lip, seem'd not to know 
What guests were in her eyes ; which parted thence 
As pearls from diamonds dropp'd. K. L, iv. 3. 

But, 0, the noble combat, that, 'twixt joy and sorrow^ 

100 ' 10 

EMG l^jjaltrHpniriiiii Birtiuniini;. ene 

EMOTIONS, Conflicting, — confinued. 

was fought in Paulina ! She had one eye declined for the 
loss of her husband ; another elevated that the oracle was 
fulfilled ; she lifted the princes from the earth ; and so 
locks her in embracing, as if she would pin her to her 
heart. W.T.y,2. 


He has strangled 
His language in his tears. H. VIII. v. 1. 

Silence is the perfectest herald of joy. I were but. little 
happy if I could say how much. M. A. ii. 1. 


For honour travels in a strait so narrow, 

Where one but goes abreast; keep then the path; 

For emuhxtlon hath a thousand sons, 

That one by one pursue : If you give way, 

Or hedge aside from the direct forthright, 

Like to an entered tide, they all rush by, 

And leave you hindmost : — 

Or, like a gallant horse fallen in first rank, 

Lies there for pavement to the abject rear, 

O'er-run and trampled on : Then what they do in present, 

Though less than yours in past, must o^er-top yours. 

r.(7. iii. 3. 


The long day's task is done, 
And we must sleep. A. C. iv. 12. 

•< (the) Crowns the Means. 

Near, or far ofi", well won is still well shot. K. J. i. 1. 

The end crowns all ; 
And that old common arbitrator, Time, 
Will one day end it. T,C. iv. 5. 


What 1 will the line stretch out to the crack of doom? 

if. iv. 1. 


You have many enemies, that know not 

Why they are so ; but, like to village curs. 

Bark when their fellows do. H. VIII. ii. 4, 

If the enemy is an ass, and a fool, and a prating cox- 
comb, is it meet, think you, that we should also, look 
you, be an ass, and a fool, and a prating coxcomb ? 

^.F. iv. 1. 


ENG llmkispnriiiii DittiniiEnj:. mo 

ENGLAND (See also Britain). 

This royal throne of kings, this scepter^d isle, 

This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars, 

This other Eden, demi-paradise ; 

This fortress built by nature for herself, 

Against infection and the hand of war ; 

This happy breed of men, this little world ; 

This precious stone set in the silver sea, 

Which serves it in the office of a wall, 

Or as a moat defensive to a house. 

Against the envy of less happy lands ; 

This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England, 

This nurse, this teeming womb of royal kings, 

Eear'd by their breed, and famous by their birth, 

Kenowned for their deeds as far from home, 

(For Christian service, and true chivalry,) 

As is the sepulchre in stubborn Jewry, 

Of the world's ransom, blessed Mary's son : 

This land of such dear souls, this dear dear laud, 

Dear for her reputation through the world. 

Is now leas'd out (I die pronouncing it,) 

Like to a tenement, or pelting farm : 

England, bound in with the triumphant sea, 

A\^hose rocky shore beats back the envious siege 

Of watery Neptune, is now bound in with shame. 

With inky blots, and rotten parchment bonds ; 

That England that was wont to conquer others, 

Has made a shameful conquest of itself. JR. IL ii. 1, 

Our sea-waird garden, the whole land, 

Is full of weeds, her fairest flowers choak'd up. 

Her fruit-trees all un-prun'd, her hedges ruin'd, 

Her knots disordered, and her wholesome herbs 

Swarming with caterpillars. E. IL ill. 4^ 

I will no more return, 
Till Anglers, and the right thou hast in France, 
Tijgether with that pale, that white-fac'd shore, 
Whose foot spurns back the ocean's roaring tides. 
And coops from otiicr lands her islanders ; 
Even till that England, hedg'd in with the main, 
lliat water-walled bulwark, still secure 
And confident from foreign purposes. 
Even till that utmost corner of the west 
Salute thee for her king. K, J. li. U 

This England never did, (nor never shall) 
Lie at the proud fuot of a conqueror, 
But when it first did help to wound itso^f. 

ENG llmkjsirtiiriEii Sirtinnartj. mm 

ENGLAND,— continued. 

•X- * ^ :^ Nought shall make us rue 

If England to herself do rest but true. K. J. v. 7. 

England, model to thy inward greatness, 

Like little body with a mighty heart, — 

What might'st thou do, that honour would ttiee do, 

Were all thy children kind and natural ! 

But see thy fault 1 H, V, ii. chorus. 

nation, that thou could'st remove I 
That Neptune's arms, who clippeth thee about, 
Would bear thee from the knowledge of thyself, 
And grapple thee unto a pagan shore. K. J. v. 2. 

— 's Defence. 

Let us be backed with God, and with the seas. 
Which he hath given for fence impregnable, 
And with their helps, only, defend ourselves ; 
In them, and in ourselves, our safety lies. 

R. VL PT. III. iv. 1. 

Would I had never trod this English earth, 

Or felt the flatteries that grow upon it ! 

Ye have angels' faces, but heaven knows your hearts ! 

J?.F///. iii. 1. 

The men do sympathize with the mastiffs, in robustious 

and rough coming on, leaving their wits with their wives ; 

and then give them great meals of beef, and iron, and 

steel, they will eat like wolves, and fight like devils. 

E, r. iii. 7. 

■ Wranglers. 

Be friends, you English fools, be friends; we have 
French quarrels enough, if you could tell how to reckon. 

i/.F. iv. L 

ENJOYMENT, Frequency of, diminishes Pleasure. 
The nightingale in summer's front doth sing, 
And stops his pipe in growth of riper days ; 
Not that the summer is more pleasant now 

Then when his mournful hymns did hush the night, 
But that wild music burdens every bough, 

And sweets grown common lose their dear delight. 


Ay, marry, now my soul hath elbow room. K, /. v. 7. 


If I had a thunderbolt in mine eye, I can tell who 
fihould down. A, Y, i. 2, 


ENT IjiaktspEatiiiii Birtiniiiirtf. equ 


Impossible be stran^^^e attempts, to tbose 

That weigh their pains in sense ; and do suppose 

What hath been cannot be. A, W. i. 1 . 

Of all exploits since first I followed arms, 

Ne'er heard I of a warlike enterprise 

More venturous or desperate than this. H. YL pt. i. ii. 1. 


Know you not, master, to some kind of men 

Their graces serve them but as enemies ? 

Ko more do yours ; your virtues, gentle master, 

Are sanctified and holy traitors to you. 

0, what a world is this, when what is comely 

Envenoms him that bears it ! A. Y. ii. 3. 

Lean-fac'd Envy in her loathsome cave. 

H.VL PT. II. iii. 2. 
Now I feel 
Of what coarse metal ye are moulded, — envy. 
How eagerly ye follow my disgraces, 
As if it fed ye ! and how sleek and wanton 
Ye appear in every thing may bring my ruin ! 
Follow your envious co\irses, men of malice ; 
You have Christian warrant for them, and, no doubt, 
In time will find their fit rewards. H. VIII. iii. 2. 

My heart laments, that virtue cannot live 
Out of the teeth of emulation. J.C. ii. 3. 

Men, that make 
Envy, and crooked malice, nourishment, 
Dare bite the best. ff. YIIL v. 2. 


Truly, master Ilolofernes, the epithets are sweetly varied, 
•like a scholar at the least. L. L. iv. 2. 

. Fond, 

A world 
Of pretty, fond, adoptious Christendoms, 
That blinking Cupid gossips. A. W. i. 1. 


Nobly he yokes 

A smiling with a sigh : as if the sigh 

Was that it was, for not being juch a smile ; 

The smile, mocking the sigh, that it would fly 

From so divine a temple, to commix 

With winds, that sailors rail at. Cym, iv. 2. 

Thus ready for the way of life or death, ■ 

1 wait the sharpest blow. P. P, \, 1. 

113 10* 

EQu Ijiukfspnrinn Siitiniiiini:. esp 


^Faith, here^s an equivocator, that could swear in both 
the scales against either scale ; who committed treason 
enough for God's sake, yet could not equivocate to heaven. 

M. ii. 3. 

How absolute the knave is ! we must speak by the card, 
or equivocation will undo us. II. y. 1. 


hateful error, melancholy's child ! 

Why dost thou show to the apt thoughts of men 

The things that are not ? error, soon conceivM, 

Thou never com^st unto a happy birth, 

But kilFst the mother that engonder'd thee. /. C, v. 3. 

Bat we worldly men 
Have miserable, mad, mistaking eyes. Tit. And. v. 2. 

0, what men dare do! what men may do I what men 
daily do I not knowing what they do ! M. A. iv. 1. 

When from things true, the heart and eyes have errM, 
To a false plague they often are transferrM. Poems 

In your affairs, my lord, 
If ever I were wilful-nogligcut, 
It was my f )lly ; if industriously 

1 play'd the fool, it was my negligence, 
Not weighing well the end; if ever fearful 
To do a tiling, where I the issue doubted, 
Whereof the execution did cry out 
Against the non-performance, ^twas a fear 
Which oft affects the wisest : these, my lord, 
Are such allow'd infirmities, that honesty 

Is never free of. W. T. i. 2. 

— Popular. 

•'TIS the time's plague, when madmen lead the blind. 

A-^^i. iv. 1. 


You may thank the unquiet time for your quiet o'er- 
postmg that action. II IV. pt. ii. i. 2. 

I have been in such a pickle since I saw you last, that, 
I fear me, will never out of my bones : I shall not fear fly. 
blowing. 2\ v. 1. 

ESPOUSALS (See also AYife). 

Let still the woman take 
An elder than herself, so wears she to him. 
So sways she level in her husband's heart. 
For, boy, however we do praise ourselves, 
Our fancies are more giddy and unfirm, 

ESP ||jaltr]j|ir{iriii!i flirtinnani. exa 


More l()n_i>;inp:;, AYavorin;:^, sooner lost and won, 

Than ^A'omen's are. T. N. ii. 4 

Then let thy love be 3^oiin<2;er than thyself, 

Or thy affection cannot hold the bent : 

For women are as roses, whose fair flower, 

Being once display' d, doth fall that very hour. T. N. ii. 4. 


What trick, what device, what starting hole, canst thou 
now find out, to hide thee from this open and apparent 
shame. H. IV. ft, i. ii. 4 

For, well you know, we of th' offending side 

Must keep aloof from, strict arbitrament: 

And stop all sight-holes ; every loop, from whence 

The eye of reason may pry in upon us. H. IV. ft. i. iv. 1. 


I ne'er had worse luck in my life, in my, — Lord, Sir: 
I see, things may serve long, but not serve ever. 

A. W. ii. 2. 


Light thickens ; find the crow 
Makes wing to the rooky wood. M. iii. 2. 

The west yet glimmers with some streaks of day : 

Now spurs the lated traveller apace. 

To gain the timely inn. M. iii. 3, 

Good things of day begin to droop and drowze. M. iii. 2 


There is some soul of goodness in things evil 

Would men observingly distil it out: 

For our bad neighbour makes us early stirrers, 

"Which is both healthful, and good husbandry ; 

Besides, they are our outward consciences, 

And preachers to us all ; admonishing, 

That we should dress us fairly for our end. 

Tims may we gather honey from the weed, 

And make a moral of the devil himself. H.V. iv. 1. 


Now climbeth Tamora Olympus' top ; 
Safe out of fortune's shot: and sits aloft, 
Secure of thunder's crack, or liglitning's flash ; 
Advanc'd above pale Envy's threat'ning reach. 

Tit. And. ii. 1 


EXA IjifiktHiiriiriiiE flirtiDiiarti;. exc 


Peace ; sit you down, 
And let me wring your heart ; for so I shall, 
If it be made of penetrable stuff; 
If damned custom have not braz'd it so, 
That it be proof and bulwark against sense. H. iii. 4. 

You go not, till I set you up a glass. 
Where you may see the inmost part of you. H. iii. 4. 


Thieves for their robbery have authority 
AVhen judges steal themselves. M. 3L ii. 2. 

More authority, dear boy, name more ; and, sweet my 
child, let them be even of good repute and carriage. 

L.L.i. 1. 


Why, look you, I am whippM and scourg\i with rods, 

Nettled, and stung with pismires, when I hear 

Of this vile politician, Bolingbroke. R. IV. pt. i. i. 3. 


They are worthy 
To inlay heaven with stars. Ci/m. v. 5. 

The top of admiration ; worth 
What's dearest to the world. T. iii. 1. 

But you, you. 
So perfect and so peerless, are created 
Of every creature's best. T. iii. 1. 


As surfeit is the father of much ftist, 

So every scope by the immoderate use 

Turns to restraint : our natures do pursue 

(Like rats, that ravin down their proper bane) 

A thirsty evil ; and when we drink, we die. M,M. i. 3. 

Allow not nature more than nature needs. K. L. ii. 4. 


And thereof came it that the man was mad. C. E. v. 1. 


When workmen strive to do better than well, 

They do confound their skill in covetousness : 

And, oftentimes, excusing of a fault, 

Doth make the fault the worse by the excuse ; 

As patches set upon a liitle breach. 

Discredit more in hiding oi the fault, 

Than did the fault before it was so patched. K. J. iv, 2. 


EXP |link!3]iMxiitn Dirtinnnrij. exp 


Oft expectation fails, and most oft mere 

Where most it promises ; and oft it hits, 

Where hope is coldest, and despair most sits. A. W. ii. 1. 

For now sits Expectation in the air. H. F. ii. chorus. 

So tedious is this day, 
As is the night before some festival 
To an impatient child, that hath new robes, 
And may not wear them. B. /. iii. 2. 

Now expectation, tickling skittish spirits, 
On one and other side, Trojan and Greek 
Sets all on hazard. T, C, Prologue. 

The town is empty ; on the brow o' the sea 
Stand ranks of people, and they cry, — a sail. 0. ii. 1. 

For every minute is expectancy 
Of more arrivance. 0, ii. 1. 

It is a high- wrought flood ; 
I cannot, Hwixt the heaven and the main, 
Descry a sail. 0. ii. 1 

Even till we make the main, and the aerial blue 
An indistinct regard. 0. ii. 1. 


Construe the times to their necessities. H.IV, pt. ii. iv. 1. 


Experience is by industry achieved, 

And perfected by the swift course of time. T.G. i. 3. 

Experience, 0, thou disprov'st report ! Cym. v. 2. 


Vex not his ghost; let him pass, he hates him, 

That would upon the rack of this tough world 

Stretch him out longer, K, X. "v. 3. 


To my unfolding lend a gracious ear; 

And let me find a charter in your voice, 

To assist my simpleness. 0, i. 3,. 


It shall go hard, 
But I will delve one yard below their mines, 
And blow them to the moon. n. iii. 4. 


Come, come ; 
Lend me a light. Know we this face, or no? O. v. 1, 


EXP llfnIiBspiiriEii Dirtinnartf. eie 

EXPRESSION, Lascivious. 
Fie, fie upon her ! 
There^s language in her eye, her cheek, her lip ; 
Nay, her foot speaks ; her wanton spirits look out, 
At every joint and motion of her body. 
0, these encounterers, so glib of tongue, 
That give a coasting welcome ere it comes. 
And wide unclasp the tables of their thoughts 
To every ticklish reader ! set them down 
For sluttish spoils of opportunity, 
And daughters of the game. T. C. iv. 5. 


I cannot tell, good Sir, for which of his virtues it was, but 
he was certainly whipped out of the court. W, T. iv. 2. 


Helicanus, strike me, honor'd Sir ; 
Give me a gash, put me to present pain ; 
Lest this great sea of joys rushing upon me, 
O'erbear the shores of my mortality. 

And drown me with their sweetness. P. P, v. 1. 


I would, I could 
Quit all offences with as clear excuse. 
As well as, I am doubtless, I can purge 
Myself of many I am charg'd withal: 
Yet such extenuation let me beg, 
As, in reproof of many tales devised, — 
Which (jft the ear of greatness needs must hear,— 
By smiling pick-thanks and base newsmongers, 

1 may, for some things true, wherein my youth 
llath fiiulty wander'd and irregular, 

Find pardon on my true submission. H. IV, pt. i. iii. 2. 

EXTERIOR, Plausible. 

There is a fair behaviour in thee, captain; 

And though that nature, with a beauteous wall, 

Doth oft close in pollution, yet of thee 

1 will believe, thuu hast a mind that suits 

AVith this thy fair and outward character. T.N i. 2. 


Men's eyes were made to look, and let them gaze. 

P.J. lii.l. 
The eye sees not itself, 
But by reflection, by some other things. /. C. i. 2. 

Let every eye negociate for itself, and trust no agent. 

M. A. ii. 1. 


EYE lljEkrspiiriiiii SirtinHErir. 'kyb 

E YE, — continued. 

An eye like Mars, to threaten and command. H. iil. 4. 

What an eye she hath ! methinks it sounds a parle}^ of 

provocation. 0. ii. 3. 

For his ordinary, pays his heart, 
For what his eyes eat only. A. C ii. 2. 

From women's eyes this doctrine I derive: 
They sparkle still the right Promethean fire ; 
They are the books, the arts, the academies, 
That show, contain, and nourish all the world ; 
Else, none at all in aught proves excellent. L. L. iv. 3. 

Thou tell'st me there is murder in mine eye : 
^Tis pretty, sure, and very probable, 
Tliat eyes,— tiiat are the frail'st and ^softest things, 
Who shut their coward gates on atomics, — 
Should be call'd tyrants, butchers, murderers ! 
Now I do frown on thee with all my heart ; 
And, if mine eyes can wound, now let them kill thee; 
Now counterfeit to swoon ; why now fall down ; 
Or, if thou can'st not, 0, for shame, for shame, 
Lie not, to say miue eyes are murderers. 
Now show the wound mine eyes have made in thee : 
Scratch thfje ])ut with a pin, and there remains 
Some scar of it ; loan but upon a rush, 
The cicatrice and capable impressure 
Thy palm some moment keeps : but now mines eyes, 
Which I have darted at thee, hurt thee not; 
Nor, I am sure, there is no force in eyes, 
That can do hurt. A.Y. iii.5. 

She speaks, yet she says nothing; — what of that? 

Her eye discourses, 1 Avill answer it. 

I am too bold, 'tis not to me she speaks: 

Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven, 

Having some business, do entreat her eyes 

To twinkle in their spheres till they return. R.J, ii.2. 

I perceive^ these lords, 
At this encounter, do so much admire, 
That they devour their reason ; and scarce think 
Their eyes do offices of truth, their words 
Arc natural breath, T, v. i. 

The beauty that is borne here in the face 
'I'he bearer knows not, but commends itself 
To others^ eyes : nor doth the eye itself ^ 

(That most pure spirit of sense) behokl itself, 
Not going from itself; but eye to eye opposM 
Balute each other with each other's form. T,C. iii. 3. 


£YE IjialttnptiiriiiH Dirtinuuni- fai 


Your brows are blanker ; yet black brows, they say, 

Become some women best; so that there be not 

Too much hair there, but in a semi-circle, 

Or half moon made with a pen. W.T. ii. 1 

AND Ears. 

My will enkindled by mine eyes and ears, 

Two traded pilots Hwixt the dangerous shores 

Of will and judgment. T. C. ii. Z 



If he be not one that truly loves you, 
That errs in ignorance and not in cunning, 
I have no judgment in an honest face. 0. in. 3. 

Your face, my thane, is as a book, where men 
May read strange matters. M. i. 5. 


^Tis as easy as lying. ^. iii- 2. 

FAIRIES (See also Elves, Queen Mab.) 

Where the bee sucks, there suck I, 

In a cowslip's bell I lie : 

There I couch when owls do cry. 

On the bat's back I do fly, 

After summer merrily : 
Merrily, merrily shall I live now, 

Under the blossom that hangs on the bough. T. v. 1. 

Fairies, black, grey, green, and white, 
You moon-shine revellers, and shades of night. 
You orphan-heirs of fixed destiny, 

Attend your office, and your quality. M. W. v. 5, 

Elves, list your names ; silence, you airy toys. 
Cricket, to Windsor. chimneys shalt thou leap: 
Where fires thou find'st unrak'd, and hearths unswept, 
There pinch the maids as blue as bilberry : 
Our radiant queen hates sluts and sluttery. W.M. v. 5 

But that it eats our victuals, I should think 
Hei'e were a fairy. Cym. iii. G 

Come, now a roundel, and a fairy song ; 
Then, for the third part of a minute, hence ; 
Some, to kill cankers in the musk-rose buds ; 
Some, war with rear-mice for their leathern wings. 
To make my small elves coats ; and some, keep back 


FAi IjjnkrHfitiirirtn Birtinnani^ fai 


The clamorous owl, that nip;litly hoots, and wonders 

At our quaint spirits. M. N, il. 3 

"Whore's Pcde?—Qo you, and where 3^ou find a maid, 
Tiiat, ere she sleep, lias thrice her prayers said, 
liaise up the organs of her fantasy, 
Sleep she as sound as careless infancy ; 
But those that sleep, and think not on their sins, 
Pinch them, arms, legs, back, shoulders, sides, and shina, 

M. W. V. 5 
About, about ; 

Search Windsor-Castle, elves, within and out: 
Strew good luck, ouphes, in every sacred room ; 
That it may stand till the perpetual doom, 
In state as wholesome as in state 'tis fit ; 
Worthy the owner, and the owner it. 
The several chairs of trrder look you scour 
With juice of balm, and every precious fiowet*: 
Each f lir instalment, coat, and several crest, 
With loyal blazon, evermore be blest! 
And nightly, meadow-fairies, look, you sing, 
Like to the Garter's compass, in a ring: 
The expressure that it bears, green let it be, 
More fertile-fresh than all tlie field to see ; 
And I[o]ij/ soit qui mat y pease, write 
In emerald tufts, flowers purple, blue, and wdiite ; 
Like sappiiire, pearl, and rich embroidery, 
Buckled below fair kniglithood's IxMiding knee : 
Fairies use flowers for their charactery. 
Away ; disperse. M. W. v. 6. 

Then, my queen, in silence sad, 
Trip we after the night's shade: 
We the gh)1)e can compass soon, 
Swifter than the warid'ring moon. M. N. iv. 1. 

Pray you, lock hand in hand: yourselves in order set: 

And twenty glow-worms shall our lanterns be, 

To guide our measure round about the tree. M. W, v. 5. 

Be kind and courteous to this gentleman ; 
Hop in his walks, ami gambol in his eyes; 
Feed him with apricocks and dewl)erries, 
"With purple grapes, green figs, and mulberries , 
The honey bags steal from the hum]}le 1)ees, 
And, for night-tapers, crop their waxcu thiglis, 
And liglit tiiem at tlie fiery glow-worm's eyes, 
To have my love to bctl, and to arise ; 
And pluck the wdngs from painted Ijutterflies, 

1-1 It 

FAi lljnlvrHjirnriaii Dirtinnartf. fal 

FAIRIES, — continued. 

To fan the moon-Loams from his sleeping eyes: 

Nod to him, elves, and do him courtesies. M. N. iii. 1. 


To tread the ooze of the salt deep ; 
To run upon the sharp wind of the nortii ; 
To do me business in the veins o^ the earth, 
When it is bak'd with frost. T, i. 2. 


Well, if ever thou dost fall from this faith, thou wilt 
prove a notable argument. M. A, i. 1. 

FALLEN Greatness (See also Life, Death, Mighty Dead.) 
^Tis a sufferance, panging 
As soul and body's severing. H, VIIL ii. 3. 

Farewell, a long farewell, to all my greatness ! 
This is the state of man : To-day he puts forth 
The tender leaves of hope ; to-morrow blossoms. 
And bears his blushing honours thick upon him ; 
The third day comes a frost, a killing frost; 
And when he thinks, good easy man, full surely 
Ills greatness is a ripening, — nips his root, 
And then he falls, as I do. I have ventured. 
Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders, 
This many summers in a sea of glory ; 
But far beyond my depth: my high-blown pride 
At length broke under me ; and now has left me, 
AV^eary, and old with service, to the mercy 
Of a rude stream, that must for ever hide me. 
Vain pomp, and glory of this world, I hate ye ; 
I feel my heart new opened : 0, how wretched 
Is that poor man, that hangs on princes' favours ! 
There is, betwixt that smile we would aspire to. 
That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin, 
More pangs and fears than wars and womeli have ; 
And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer, 
Never to hope again. H. VIIL iii. %, 

But yesterday, the word of C^sar might 
Have stood against the world : now lies he there, 
And none so poor to do him reverence. /.(7. iii. 2. 

sun, thy uprise shall I see no more : 
Fortune and Antony part here ; even here 
Do we shake hands. — All come to this? The hearts 
That spaniel'd me at heels, to whom I gave 
Their wishes, do discandy, melt their sweets 
On blossoming Csesar ; and this pine i bark'd 
That over-topp'd them all. A,C, iv. 10 

FAL IIjiikBHirtiiriiin Dirtinimrtf. fal 

TA LLEN Greatness, — continued. 

High events as these 
Strike those that make them : and their story is 
No less in pity, than his glory, which 
Brought them to be Lamented. A. C. v. 2 

Nay then, farewell ! 
I've touch'd the highest point of all my greatness! 
And, from ttiat full meridian of my glory, 
I haste now to my setting. I shall fall 
Like a bright exhalation in the evening, 
And no man see me more. H.VIII. iii. 2, 

Where is thy husband now? where be thy brothers? 
Where be thy two sons ? wherein dost thou joy ? 
Who sues, and kneels, and says — God save the queen ? 
Where be the bending peers that flatter'd thee ? 
Where be the thronging troops that follow'd thee ? 
Decline all this, and see what now thou art. B. Ill, iv. 4 

A ffilcon, tow'ring in her pride of place, 
Was, by a mousing owl, hawk'd at, and kilFd. M. ii. 4. 
An argument that he is pluckM, when hither 
He sends so poor a pinion of his wing, 
Which had superfluous kings for messengers, 
Not many moons gone by. A,C. iii. 10. 

wither'd is the garland of the war. 
The soldier's pole is fiijlen ; young boys, and girls 
Are level now with men ; the odds is gone, 
And there is nothing left remarkable 
Beneath the visiting 'moon. A.C, iv. 13. 

mighty Caesar ! Dost thou lie so low ? 

Are all thy conquests, gloi'ies, triumphs, spoils, 

Shrunk to this little measure ? J.C. iii. 1, 

'Tis certain, greatness, once fallen out with fortune, 

Must fall out with men too : AYhat the declin'd is. 

He shall as soon read in the eyes of others, 

As feel in his own fall : — for men, like butterflies, 

Show not their mealy wings but to the summer. 

Never so truly happy, my good Cromwell. 

1 know myself now ; and I feel witbin me 
A peace above all earthly dignities, 

A still and quiet conscience. The king has cur*d me, 

1 humbly thank his grace ; and from these shoulders. 

These ruin'd pillars, out of pity, taken 

A load would sink a navy, too much honour: 

0, 'tis a burden, Cromwell, 'tis a burden. 

Too heavy for a man that hopes for heaven, ff. VIII, iii. 2 


FAL lljiiktBpiirinii Birtintiart}. fal 

FALLEN Greatness, — continued. 

My lord of Winchester, you are a little, 

Vij your good favour, too sharp ; men so noble. 

However faulty, yet should find respect, 

For what they have been : His a cruelty, 

To load a falling man. H. VIIL v. 2. 

His overthrow heapM happiness upon him; 

For then, and not till then, he felt himself, 

And found the blessedness of being little. H, VIIL iv. 2 

What, amazed 
At my misfortunes ? can thy spirit wonder, 
A great man should decline '/ Nay, an you weep, 
I am fallen indeed. H. VIIL iii. 2 

There was the weight that pulFd me down. Cromwell, 

The king has gone beyond me, all my glories 

In that one woman I have lost for ever: 

No sun shall ever usher forth mine honours, 

Or gild again the noble troops that waited 

Upon my smiles. Go, get thee from me, Cromwell ; 

I am a poor fallen man, unworthy now 

To be thy lord and master. H. VIIL iii. 2. 

Brave Percy : Fare thee well, great her*rt 1 
Ill-weav'd ambition, how much art thou shrunk ! 
When that this body did contain a spirit, 
A kingdom for it was too small a bound ; 
But now, two paces of the vilest earth 
Is room enough. H. IV, pt, i. v. 4. 

Let's talk of graves, of worms, and epitaphs, 

Make dust our paper, and with rainy eyes, 

AVrite sorrow on the bosom of the earth. 

Let's choose executors, and talk of wills: 

And yet not so, for what can we bequeath, 

Save our deposed bodies to the ground ? 

Our lands, our lives, and all are Bolingbroke's, 

And nothing can we call our own, but death ; 

And that small model of the barren earth, 

Which serves as paste and cover to our bones. 

For heaven's sake let us sit upon the ground. 

And tell sad stories of the death of kings : — 

IIow some have been depos'd, some slain in war ;— 

Some haunted by the ghosts they have deposed ; 

Some poison'd by their wives, some sleeping kilFd ; 

All murder'd. ^ R. IL iii. 2 

0, my lord, 
Press not a falling man too far ; 'tis virtue: 
His faults lie open to the laws ; let them, 


FAL IjialvEsparinti Dirtinimni. fam 

F ILLEN Greatness, — continued. 

Not you, correct him. My heart weeps to see him 

So little of his great self. H. VIIL in. 2. 

I must now forsake ye ; the last hour 
Of ray long weary life is come upon me. 
Farewell : 

xVnd when you would say something that is sad, 
Speak how I fell. E. Fill ii. 4. 

PryHhee go hence, 
Or I shall show the cinders of my spirit 
Through the ashes of my chance, A. C. v. 2. 

Now boast thee, death ! in thy possession lies 

A lass unparalleled. — Downy windows, close ; 

And golden Phoebus never be beheld 

Of eyes again so royal I A. C. v. 2. 

FALSE Characters. 

I am damned in hell, for swearing to gentlemen, my 
friends, you were good soldiers, and tall fellows : and when 
Mistress Bridget lost the. handle of her fan, I took't upon 
mine honour, thou hadst it not. M. W. ii. 2. 


So are those crisped snaky golden locks, 
Which make such wanton gambols with the wind, 
Upon supposed ftiirness, often known 
To be the dowry of a second head. 
The scull that bred them in the sepulchre. M, Y. iii. 2. 


Falser than vows made in wine. A.Y. iii. 5. 

As false as dicers' oaths. II. iii. 4. 

what a goodly outside falsehood hath. M. V. i. 3. 
That same Diomed is a false-hearted rogue, a most un- 
just knave ; I will no more trust him when he leers, than 

1 will a serpent when he hisses ; he will spend his mouth, 
and promise, like Brabler the hound ; but when he performs, 
astronomers fortel it ; it is prodigious ; there will come some 
change ; the sun borrows of the moon, when Diomed keeps 
his word. T.C.Y.l. 


I have much to say on behalf of that Fallstaff. 

H. IV, PT. I. ii. 4. 

FAME (See also Celebrity). 

Let fame, that all hunt after in their lives, 
Live register'd upon our brazen tombs, 

125 11* 

FAM Ijittltrsjirndtttt Dtrtinnttrtf. fam 

- - . J . . 

FAME, — continued. 

And then grace us in the disgrace of death ; 

When, spite of cormorant devouring Time, 

The endeavour of this present breath mav buy 

That honour which shall bate his scythe's keen edge, 

And make us heirs of all eternity. L.L.\. 1. 

All-telling Fame. i. i. ii. i. 

It deserves with characters of brass, 

A forted residence, Against the tooth of time 

And razure of oblivion. M. M, v. 1. 

The evil that men do lives after them ; 

The good is oft interred with their bones. /. C. iii. 2. 

Men's evil manners live in brfiss : their virtues 

We write in water. II.VIIL iv.2. 

Death makes no conquest of this conqueror ; 

For now he lives in fame, though not in life. 

B. Ill iii. 1. 
He lives in fame, that died in virtue^s cause. 

Tit. And. i. 2 
After my death, I wish no other herald. 
No other speaker of my living actions, 
To keep mine honour from corruption. 
But such an honest chronicler as Griffith. II.VIIL iv. 2. 

Adieu, and take thy praise with thee to heaven ! 

Thy ignominy sleep with thee in the grave, 

But not remember'd in thy epitaph. II. IV. pt. i. v. 4. 

Fame, at the which he aims, — 

In whom already he is well grac'd, — cannot 

Better be held, nor more attained, than by 

A place below the first: for what miscarries 

Shall be the generaFs fault, though he perform 

To the utmost of a man ; and giddy censure 

Will then cry out of Marcius, 0, i/he 

Had home the business! (7. i. 1. 

0, Harry, thou hast robb'd me of my youth, 

I better brook the loss of brittle life, 

Than those proud titles thou hast won of me ; 

They wound my thoughts, worse than thy sword my flesh: 

But thought's the slave of life, and life, time's, fool; 

And time, that takes survey of all the world. 

Must have a stop. II. IV. pt. i. v. 4, 

Having his ear full of his airy fame. 
Grows dainty of his worth, and in his tent 
Lies mocking our designs. T, C, i. 3, 


FAM |)ljakES|itnriati Birtintiatti- fas 

FAME,— continued. 

If a man do not erect, in this age, his own tomb ere he 

dies, he shall live no longer in monument, than the bell 

rings, and the widow weeps. * -^ * An hour in clamour, and 

a quarter in rheum. M. A. v. 2. 

I would give all my fame for a pot of ale, and safety. 

E. V. iii. 2. 


So full of shapes is fancy, 
That it alone is high-fantastical. T. K. i. 1. 

An old hat, and the humour of forty fancies stuck in it 
for a feather. 2\ S. iii. 2. 

Nature wants stuff 
To vie strange forms with fancy. A. C. y. 2. 

Tell me, where is fancy bred ; 
Or in the heart, or in the head ? 
How begot, how nourished ? 
It is engender'd in the eyes, 
With gazing fed : and fancy dies 
In the cradle where it lies. M. V. iii. 2. 

She knew her distance, and did angle for me, 

Madding my eagerness with her restraint, 

As all impediments in fancy^s course 

Are motives of more fancy. A. Tf. v. 3. 

We must every one be a man of his own fancy. 

A. W. iv. 1. 
In maiden meditation, fancy-free. M, N, ii. 2. 


See'st thou not, I say, what a deformed thief this fashion 
is ? how giddily he turns about all the hot bloods between 
fourteen and five-and-thirty ? M. A, iii. 8. 

Eat, speak, and move, under the influence of the most 
received star; and though the devil lead the measure, such 
are to be followed. A. W. ii. I, 

I see that the fashion wears out more apparel than the 
man. M. A. iii. 3 

New customs. 

Though they be never so ridiculous, 

Nay, let them be unmanly, yet are followed. H. VIII. i. 3. 

These remnants 
Of fool and feather, that they got in France, 
With all their honourable points of ignorance 
Pertaining thereunto. H.VIIL i. 3. 

FAS IIjiiknpariEii Sirtinimni. fat 

FASHION,— coiz^mwed 
Death ! my lord, 
Their clothes are after such a pagan cut too. H. VIII. i. 3. 

Still, wars and letchery ; nothing else holds fashion : a 
burning devil take them ! T. C. v. 2. 


heavens ! that one might read the book of fate ; 

And see the revolutions of the times 

Make mountains level, and the continent 

(Weary of solid firmness) melt itself 

Into the sea! and, other times, to see 

The beachy girdle of the ocean 

Too wide for Neptune's hips: how chances mock, 

And changes fill, the cup of alteration, 

With divers liquors 1 11. IV, pt. ii. iii. 1. 

What fates impose, that men must needs abide, 
It boots not to resist both wind and tide. 

H. IV PT. III. iv. 3. 

We defy augury ; there is a special providence in the fall 
of a sparrow. If it be now, 'tis not to come ; if it be not 
to come, it will be now ; if it be not now, yet it will come : 
the readiness is ail. II. v. 2. 

But, vain boast! 
Who can controul his fate ? " 0. v. 2. 

AVell,, heaven forgive him, and forgive us all ! 

Some rise by sin, and some by virtue fall : 

Some run from brakes of vice and answer none ; 

And some condemned for one fault alone. M. M. ii. 1 

If thou read this, Csesar, thou may'st live; 

If not, the fates with traitors do contrive. /. C. ii. 3. 

Men, at some times, are masters of their fates. J. C. i. 2* 

But, orderly to end where I begun, 

Our wills and fates do so contrary run, 

That our devices still are overthrown ; 

Our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our own. 

H. iii. 2. 


Fathers, that wear rags, 

Do make their children blind ; 
But fathers that bear bags. 

Shall see their children kind. K, L. ii. 4. 

Who would be a father ? 0. i. 1 . 


FAv llmlttsiiBariiiti Dirtinniini* faw 


For taking one's part that's out of favour: Nay, an 
thou canst not smile as the wind sits, thouFt catch cold 
shortly. K. L. i. 4. 

0, who shall believe. 
But you misuse the reverence of your place ; 
Employ the countenance and grace of heaven, 
As a false favourite does his prince's name 
In deeds dishonourable. H. IV. ft. ii. iv. 2, 

Sickness is catching : 0, were favour so ! iff. N. i. 1. 

I'll set thee in a shower of gold, and hail 
Rich pearls upon thee. A.C. ii. 5. 

FAVOURITES, Presumption op. 

Where honeysuckles, ripened by the sun, 

Forbid the sun to enter ; — like favourites, 

Made proud by princes, that advance their pride 

Against that power that bred it. M. A. iii. 1. 


I need not be barren of accusations ; he hath faults, with 
surplus, to tire in repetition. C. i. 1. 

Time shall unfold what plaited cunning hides ; 
Who cover faults, at last shame them derides. K. L. i. 1. 

You shall find there 
A man, who is the abstract of all faults 
That all men follow. A.C.i, 4. 

Condemn the fault, and not the actor of it ! 
Why every fault's condemned ere it be done: 
Mine were the very cipher of a function, 
To find the faults whose fine stands in record, 
And let go by the actor. M. M. ii. 2. 

There's something in me that reproves my fault ; 
But such a headstrong potent fault it is. 
That it but mocks reproof. T. ISf. iii. 4. 

There were none principal; they were all like one 
another, as halfpence are ; every one fault seemino; mon- 
strous, till his fellow fault came to match it. A.Y. iii. 2. 

Ilis worst fault is, he's given to prayer ; he is something 
peevish that way ; but nobody but has his fault: — but let 
that pass. ' M. V\\ i. 4. 

I will not open my mouth so wide as a bristle nay enter, 
in way of thy excuse. T. N. i. 5. 


Tut, Tut ! 

Grace me no grace, nor uncle me no uncle ; 


FAw IIiaktHprnriiiu Dirtinnani. tea 


I am no traitor's uncle ; — and that word grace, 

In an ungracious mouth, is but profane. B. IL ii. 3. 


Fears makes devils of cherubims. T.C, iii. 2. 

Of all base passions, fear is most accursed. 

iT.FJ. FT. I. V. 2. 

Ilis flight was madness : AYhen our actions do not, 

Our fears do, make us traitors. M» iv. 2. 

Those linen cheeks of thine 
Are counsellors to fear. Jf. v. 3. 

Nothing routs us 
But the villainy of our fears. Cym, v. 2. 

0, a sin in war, 
Damn'd in the first beginners 1 Cym, v. 3. 

If Cciesar hide himself, shall they not whisper, 
Lo, Caesar is afraid ? /.(7. ii. 2 

In time we hate that which we often fear. A. C. i. 3. 

0, these flaws and starts, 
(Impostors to true fear) would well become 
A woman^s story at a winter's fire. M, iii 4. 

This is the very painting of your fear. M. iii. i. 

You make me strange, 
Even to the disposition that I owe, 
When now I think you can behold such sights. 
And keep the natural ruby of your cheeks. 
While mine are blanch'd with fear. M. iii. 4. 

Blind fear, that seeing reason leads, finds safer footing 
than blind reason stumbling, without fear. T. C, iii. 2, 

The devil damn thee black, thou cream-fac'd loon ! 
Where got^st thou that goose look ? M. v. 3. 

0, let my lady apprehend no fear: in all Cupid's pageant 
there is presented no monster. T.C, iii. 2. 

There is not such a word 
Spoke of in Scotland, as this term of fear. 

HJV. FT. I. iv. 1. 
The love of wicked friends converts to fear ; 
That fear, to hate ; and hate turns one, or both, 
To worthy danger, and deserved death. R. IL v. 1. 

Why, what should be the fear ? 
I do not set my life at a pin's fee ; 
And, for my soul, what can it do to that, 
Being a thing immortal ? fll i. 4. 


FEA |l}iikB3]iMriiiii Bittiniiiin[. fid 

FEAK, — continued. 

Let not the world see fear and sad distrust 

Govern the motion of, a kingly eye. K, J. v. 1. 

I am sick and capable of fears ; 
Oppressed with wrongs, and therefore full of fears ; 
A widow, husbandless, subject to fears ; 
A woman, naturally born to fears. K, J, iii. 1. 

I have almost forgot the very taste of fears : 
The time has been my senses would have cooPd 
To hear a night-shriek ; and my fell of hair 
Would, at a dismal treatise, rouse, and stir. 
As life were in't : I have supp'd full of horrors ; 
Direness, familiar to my slaughterous thoughts, 
Cannot once start me. M, v. 5. 


'Tis a pageant 
To keep us in false gaze. 0. i. 3., 


Novelty is only in request ; and it is dangerous to be 
aged in any kind of course, as it is virtuous to be constant 
in any undertaking. There is scarce truth enough alive to 
make societies secure ; but security enough, to make fellow- 
ships accursed : much upon this riddle runs the wisdom of 
the world. M.M, iii. 2. 


More strange than true. I never may believe 

These antique fables, nor these fxiry toys. M. iV. v. 1. 


What's Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba, 

That he should weep for her ? H. ii. 2. 

FIDELITY (See also Constancy, Love). 
I'll yet follow 
The wounded chance of Antony, though my reason 
Sits in the wind against me. A. C. iii. 8. 

Though all the world should crack their duty to you. 

And throw it from their soul ; though perils did 

Abound, as thick as thought could make them, and 

Appear in forms more horrid ; yet my duty, 

As doth a rock against the chiding flood. 

Should the approach of this wild river break, 

And stand unshaken yours. H. VIIL iii. 2. 

Why look you so upon me ? 

I am but sorry, not afear'd ; delay 'd, 


FID IjjalvBsprEtiiiu SirtinHnrif. fit 

FIDELITY,— co7izf??i?/ec?. 

But nothing alter'd : What I was, I am : 

More straining on for plucking back. TKT h\ 3. 

The loyalty well hold to fools, does make 

Our faith mere folly : — yet, he, that can endure 

To follow with allegiance a fiillen lord, 

Does conquer him that did his master conquer, 

And earns a place i' the story. A.C. iii. 11. 

His words are bonds, his oaths are oracles ; 

His love sincere, his thoughts immaculate ; 

His tears, pure messengers sent from his heart ; 

His heart as far from fraud, as heaven from earth. 

Thou'rt a good boy: this secresy of thine shiill be a tailor 
to thee, and shall make thee a new doublet and hose. 

il/.Fr. iii. 3. 
For all the sun sees, or 
The close earth wombs, or the profound seas hide 
In unknown fathoms, will I break my oath 
To this my fair belov'd. W.T. iv. 3. 

Countrymen ! 
My heart doth joy, that yet, in all my life, 
I found no man but he was true to me. J.C. v. 5. 

Thou shalt not see me blush, 
Nor change my countenance for this arrest ; 
A heart unspotted is not easily daunted. 
The purest spring is not so free from mud. 
As I am clear from treason to my sovereign. 

M. VI. PT. II. iii. 1. 


His thefts were too open ; his filching was like an un- 
skilful singer, he kept not time. if. JV\ i. 3. 

FILIAL Ingratitude (See also Children). 
How sharper than a serpent^s tooth it is 
To have a thankless child. ' K. L. i. 4, 

Resentment of Parental Wrongs. 

That drop of blood that's calm proclaims me bastard. 

II. iv. 5. 

There^s nothing to be got now-a-days, unless thou canst 
fish for't. I\ P. ii. 1. 

FIT FOR A Thief. 

^ Every true man's apparel fits your thief: If it be too 
little for your thief, your true man thinks it big enough ; if 

FIT IliElvBspaniiii Birtinitnni. rL\ 

FIT FOR A TniEF, — coniimied. 

it be too big for your thief, your thief thinks it little enough : 
so every true man's apparel lits your thief. M. M. iv. 2. 

FLATTERY (See also Adulation, Paras/tes).' 
0, that men's ears should be 
To counsel deaf, but not to flattery ! T. A, i. 2. 

The learned pate 
Ducks to the golden fool: All is oblique; 
There's nothing level in our cursed natures, 
But direct villainy. T. A. iv. 3. 

Why this 

Is the world's soul ; and just of the same piece 

Is every flatterer's spirit. T, A, lil. 2. 

Every one that flatters thee, 

Is no friend in misery. Poems, 

lie does me double wrong, 

That wounds me with the flatteries of his tongue. 

i?.//. iii. 2. 

villains, vipers, damned without redemption ! 

Dogs, easily won to fawn on any man ! R. IL iii. 2. 

Ah ! when the means are gone that buy this praise, 

The breath is gone whereof this praise is made. 2\ A, ii. 2. 

He that loves to be flatter'd is worthy the flatterer. 
Heavens, that I were a lord ! T. A. i. 1. 

- Why, what a candy deal of courtesy 

This fawning greyhound then did proffer me ! 

H, IT, PT. I. i. 3. 
But when I teil him, he hates flatterers, 
He says, he does ; being then most flatterM. J.C. ii. 1, 

Flattery^s the bellows blows up sin. F, P. i. 2. 

Because I cannot flatter, and speak fair, 
Smile in men's faces, smooth, deceive, and cog, 
Duck with French nods and apish courtesy, 

1 must be held a rancorous enemy. E. III. i. 3, 

Why these looks of care ? 
Thy flatterers yet wear silk, drink wine, lie soft ; 
Hug their diseasM perfumes, and have forgot 
Thai ever Timon was. Shame not these woods, 
By putting on the cunning of a carper. 
Be thou a flatterer now, and seek to thrive 
By that which has undone thee : hinge thy knee, 
And let his very breath whom thou'lt observe, 
Blow off thy cap ; praise his most vicious strain, 
Ani call it excellent. 2\ A. iv. 3, 

133 12 

FLA lljaktspuriim Uirtinnarif. foo 


I must prevent thee, Cimbcr. 
These couchings, and these lowly courtesies, 
Might fire the blood of ordinary men, 
And turn pre-ordinance, and first decreo, 
Into the law of children. Be not fond, 
To think that Caesar bears such rebel blood, 
That will be thaw'd from the true quality. 
With that wdiich melteth fools ; I mean, sweet words, 
Low^-crooked curt'sies, and base spaniel fawaiiilg. J,C. \iL I, 

For the love of grace. 
Lay not that flattering unction to your soul. //. iii. 4. 

Nay, do not think I flatter : 
For what advancement may I hope from thee, 
That no revenue hast, but thy good spirits. 
To feed and clothe thee ? Why should the poor be flatter^ ? 
No, let the (bandied tongue lick absurd pomp, 
And crook the pregnant hinges of the knee 
Where thrift may follow fawning. H. iii. 2. 

■'TIS holy sport to be a little vain _ 

When the sweet breath of flattery conquers strife. 

a F. iii. 2. 
Sweet poison for the age's tooth. K. /. i. 1. 

They clap the lubber Ajax on the shoulder ; 
As if his foot were on brave Hector's breast. T. C. iii. 3. 


I follow him to serve my turn upon him : 
We cannot all be masters, nor all masters 
Cannot be truly followed. . 0. i. 1. 


Why, thou silly gentleman ! 0. i. 3. 

Let the doors be shut upon him ; that he may play tho 
fool nowhere but in his own house- if. iii. 1. 

Fools on both sides ! T, 0, i. 1. 

Alas, poor fool 1 how have they baffled thee ! T. N. v. 1. 
I dare not call them fools ; but this I think, 
When they are thirsty, fools would fain have drink. 

X. i.v.2. 
This fellow's w^ise enough to play the fool ; 
> And, to do that well, craves a kind of wit : 

He must observe their mood on whom he jests, 
The quality of persons, and the time ; 
And, like the haggard, check at every feather 
That comes before his eye. This is a praclice, 

Foo |lniltB5}ijariaii Bitiiniiiini:. foe 

FOOL, — continued. 

As full of labour as a wlso man's art : 

For folly, that ho wisely shows, is fit; 

But wise men, folly-fallen, quite taint their wit. T, iV. iii 1. 

A fool, a fool ! — I met a fool i' the forest, 

A motley fool ; — a miserable world 1 

As I do live by food, I met a fool ; 

Who laid him down, and bask'd him in the sun, 

And rail'd on lady Fortune in good terms, 

In good set terms, — and yet a motley fool. A. Y. ii. 7. 

I am sprighted with a fool. Ci/m. ii. 3. 


Foolery, Sir, does walk about the orb, like the sun ; it 

shines every where. T. N, iii. 1. 

Observe him for the love of mockery. T. iV". ii. 5. 

What folly I commit, I dedicate to you. T. C. iii. 2. 


I do not like this fooling. T. O, v. 2. 

They fool me to the top of my bent. H. iii. 2. 

Beshrew me, the knight's in admirable fooling. T. iV*. ii. 3. 


The soul of this man is in his clothes, A. W, ii. 5, 


Whose manners still our tardy apish nation, 

Limps after, in base imitation. R. II. ii. 1. 

FORBEARANCE (See Strength). 


Yet, again, methinks, 
Some unborn sorrow, ripe in fortune's womb, 
Is coming toward "me. E, 11. ii. 2. 

A heavy summons lies like lead upon me. M. ii. 1. 

I have an ill-divining soul : 
Methinks I see thee now thou art below. 
As one dead in the bottom of a tomb : 
Either my eye-sight fails, or thou look'st pale. B.'J iii. 5. 

The skies look grimly, 
And threaten present blusters. In my conscience. 
The heavens with that we have in hand are angry, 
And frown upon us. W, T. ill. ^, 

For my mind misgives. 
Some consequence, yet hanging in the stars, 
Shall bitterly begin his fearful date 


FOR IjiEkBHpEiiriEn Birtiniiari[. for 

FOR^BODWG,— continued. 

With this night's revels ; and expire the term 

Of a despised life, closed in my breast, 

By some vile forfeit of untimely death. E.J, i. 4. 

In what particular thought to work, I know not ; 

But, in the gross and scope of mine opinion. 

This bodes some strange eruption to our state. H, i. 1. 


Come, seeling night, 
Scarf up the tender eye of pitiful day ; 
And, with thy bloody and invisible hand, 
Cancel and tear to pieces that great bond 
Which keeps me pale. M. iii. 2. 

I will drain him dry as hay ; 
Sleep shall, neither night nor day, 
Hang upon his pent-house lid ; 
He shall live a man forbid. if. i. 3. 

Ere the bat hath flown 
His cloistered flight ; ere, to black Hecate's summons, 
The shard-borne beetle, with his drowsy hums. 
Hath rung night's yawning peal, there shall be done 
A deed of dreadful note. if. iii. 2. 


Hang'd himself on the expectation of plenty. M. ii. 3 


'Tis far off; 
And rather like a dream than an assurance 
That my remembrance warrants. T, i, 2 

Like a dull actor now, 
I have forgot my part, and I am out, 
Even to a full disgrace. 0. v. 3 , 


The rarer action is 
In virtue than in vengeance : they being penitent, 
The sole drift of my purpose doth extend 
Not a frown further. T. v. 1. 

Kneel not to me ; 

The power that I have on you, is to spare you; 

The malice toward you, to forgive you : Live, 

And deal with others better. Cym, v, 5, 

Then I'll look up ; 
My fault is past. But, 0, what form of prayer 
Can serve my turn ? Forgive me my foul murder ! — 
That cannot be ; since I am still possess'd 


FOR ifjaltEHparinii Dirtiununt/ for 

Of those effects for which I did the murder, — 
My crown, mine own ambition, and my queen. 
May one be pardon'd, and retain the offence ? H. iii. 3. 

His great offence is dead, 
And deeper than oblivion do we bury 
The incensing relicks of it. A. W. v. 3. 


Even as men wrecked upon a sand, that look to be washed 
off the next tide. H, V. iv. 1. 


Nay, good my fellows, do not please sharp ffite 

To grace it with your sorrows ; bid that welcome 

Which comes to punish us, and we punish it, 

Seeming to bear it lightly. A C. iv. 12, 

In the reproof of chance 
Lies the true proof of men : The sea being smooth, 
How many shallow bauble boats dare sail 
Upon her patient breast, making their way 
With those of nobler bulk ! 
Rut let the ruffian Boreas once enrage 
The gentle Thetis, and, anon, behold 
The strong-ribb'd bark through liquid mountains cut, 
Rounding between the two moist elements. 
Like Persons' horse : Where's then the saucy boat, 
Whose weak untimber'd sides but even now 
Co-rivaU'd greatness ? either to harbour fled, 
Or made a toast for Neptune. Even so. 
Roth valour's show, and valour's worth, divide 
In storms of fortune : for, in her ray and brightness, 
The herd hath more annoyance by the brize. 
Than by the tiger ; but when the splitting wind 
Makes iiexible the knees of knotted oaks. 
And flies fled under shade, — why, then, the thing of courage. 
As rous'd with rage, with rage doth sympathize, 
And, with an accent tun'd in self-same key, 
Returns to chiding fortune. T. C. i. 3. 

Mine honour keeps the weather of my fate. T. C. v. 3, 


I have upon a high and pleasant hill, 
Feign'd Fortune to be thron'd : The base o' the mount 
Is rank'd with all deserts, all kind of natures, 
That labour on the bosom of this sphere, 
To propagate their states : amongst them all, 
Whose eyes are on this sovereign lady fix'd, 
One do I person ite of Timon's frame, 

1U7 12* 

FOR Ijiaktspurinn Birtinnnrij, for 

FORTUNE,— con/?>z?icdf. 

Whom Fortune, with her ivory hand, wafts to her ; 
Whose present grace to present*slaves and servants 
Translates his rivals. ^ * -sf 

All those which were his fellows but of late 
(Some Letter than his value,) on the moment 
Follow his strides, his lobbies fill with tendance, 
Rain sacrificial whisperings in his ear, 
Make sacred even his stirrup, and through him 
"Drink the free air. * * * 

When Fortune, in her shift and change of mood, 
Spurns down her late belov'd, all his dependants, 
Which laboured after him to the mountain's top, 
Fven on their kuees and hands, let him slip down, 
Kot one accompain'ing his declining foot. T. A. i. 1. 

Fortune, Fortune ! all men call thee fickle. E. J. iii. 5. 
Will Fortune never come with both hands full, 
]>ut write her fair words still in foulest letters? 
She either gives a stomach and no food, — 
Such are the poor, in health ; — or else a feast. 
And takes away the stomach, — such are the rich, 
That have aljundance, and enjoy it not. H.IV. ft. ii. \i 4. 

Twinn'd brothers of one womb, — 
Whose procreation, residence, and birth, 
Scarce is dividant, — touch tljem with several fortunes, 
7he greater scorns the lessor: Not nature. 
To wliom all sores lay siege, can bear great fortune, 
]>ut by contempt of nature. 
Raise me this beggar, and denude that lord ; 
* The senator shall bear contempt hereditary. 
The beggar, native honour. 
It is the pasture lards the brother's sides. 
The w^ant that makes him lean. T.A. iv. 3. 

Here's the scroll. 
The continent, and summary, of my fortunes. M. V. iii. 2. 

Why, then, you princes. 
Do you with cheeks abash'd bt3hold our works ; 
And think them shames, which are, indeed, nought else 
Rut the protract! ve trials of great Jove, 
1\) find pcrsistive constancy in men ? 
The fineness of which metal is not found 
In Fortune's love ; for then, the bold and coward. 
The wise and fool, the artist and unread, 
The hard and soft, seem all alfin'd and kin : 
Ikit in the wind and tempest of her frown, 
Distinction, with a broad and powerful fan, 
Pulfing at all, winno\A's tlie light away ; 


FOR |l)(ikt5|iMriiiK BirtiniKini, fra 

TOnTVm^j,— continued. 

And wliat bath mass, or matter, "by itself 

Lies, rich in virtue, and unmingled. T. C. i. 3. 

How some men creep in skittish Fortune's hall, 

While others play the idiots in her eyes ! 

How one man eats into another's pride. 

While pride is fasting in his wantonness ! T.C. iii. 3. 

Many dream not to find, neither deserve, 

And yet are steep'd in favours. Cf/m. v. 4, 

A thousand moral paintings I can shov^, 

That shall demonstrate these quick blows of Fortune, 

More pregnantly than words. Yet you do well, 

To s]iC'\Y lord Timon, that mean eyes have seen 

The foot above the head. T. A. i. 1. 

I see men's judgments are 
A parcel of their fortunes ; and things outward 
'J\) draw the inward quality after them, 
To suffer all alike. A.C. iii. 11. 

AYhen Fortune means to men most good, 
She looks upon them with a threatening eye. K. J. iii. 4. 

Be cheerful ; wipe thine eyes : 
Some fiills are means the happier to arise. Cym. iv. 2. 

A good man's fortune ma}^ grow out at heels. K. L. ii. 2. 
That strumpet. Fortune. K.J. iii. 1. 

Fortune brings in some boats that are not steer'd. 

Ct/m. iv. 3. 
Since you will buckle Fortune on my back, 
'J'o bear lier burden, whe'r I will or no, 
I must have patience to endure the load. B. III. iii. 7. 

Though Fortune's malice overthrow my state. 
My mind exceeds the compass of her wheel. 

H. VI. PT. III. iv. 3. 
Fortune is merry, 
And in this mood will give us any thing. J.C. iii. 2. 

A man whom Fortune hath cruelly scratch'd. 


FORTUNE Telling (See also Conjuror). 

We do not know what is brought to pass under the pro- 
fession of fortune-telling. M. W. iv. 2. 

FRACTURED Limb, Healed, Stronger for the Accident. 
And therefore be assur'd, my good lord marshal, 
If we do now make our atonement well, 
Our peace will, like a broken limb united, 
Grow stronger for the breaking //. IV. ft ii. iv 1 


FEA IjniltrspHriHii f irtinimrtf. fri 


Frailty, thy name is woman ! jET. i. 2 

Sometimes we are devils to ourselves, 
When we will tempt the frailty of our powers, 
Presuming on their changeful potency. T. G. iv. 4 

Nay, women are frail too : 
Ay, as the glasses where they view themselves, 
"Which are as easy broke as they make forms. if. M. ii. 4. 

Look, here comes one ; a gentlewoman of mine, 

AVho, filling in the flames of her own youth, 

Hath blistered her report. M. M. ii. S. 

FRIBBLES (See also Coxcombs). 

Ah, how the poor world is pestered with such water-flio? ; 
diminutives of nature ! T. C. v, J . 

I remember, when the fight was done, 
"When I was dry with rage and extreme toil, 
Breathless and faint, leaning upon my sword, 
Came there a certain lord, neat, trimly drcss'd, 
Fresh as a bridegroom ; and his chin, new reap'd, 
Show'd like a stubble land at harvest home. 
He was perfumed like a milliner; 
And 'twixt his finger and his thumb he held 
A pouncct-box, which ever and anon 
He gave his nose, and took't away again : — 
"Who, therewith angry, when it next came there, 
Took it in snuft'; — and still he smiFd, and talkM; 
And, as the soldiers bore dead bodies by, 
He caird them untaught knaves, unmannerly, 
To bring a slovenly unhandsome corse 
Betwixt the wind and his nobility. 
With many holiday and lady terms 
He question'd me: among the rest, demanded 
My prisoners, in your Majesty's behalf. 
I then, all smarting, with my wounds being cold, 
To be so pester'd with a popinjay, 
Out of my grief and my impatience, 
Answer'd neglectingly, I know not what ; 
He should, or should not ; for he made me mad, 
To see him shine so brisk, and smell so sweet, 
And talk so like a waiting gentlewoman. 
Of guns, and drums, and wounds, (God save the mark !) 
And telling me, the sovereign'st thing on earth 
Was parmaceti, for an inward bruise ; 
And that it was great pity, so it was, 
That villainous saltpetre should be digged 
Out of the bowels of the harmless earth, 


FRi IjiEkBHpBnriiiii Bittiniiiini. fri 

FRIBBLE&, — continued, 

AVhich many a good tall fellow had destroyed 

So cowardly ; and, but for these vile guns, 

lie would himself have been a soldier. 

This bald unjointed chat of his, my lord, 

J answer'd indirectly, as I said ; 

And, I beseech you, let not this report 

Come current for an accusation, 

Betwixt my love and your high Majesty. H. IV, pt, i. i. 3. 


Since my dear soul was mistress of her choice, 
And could of men distinguish her election, 
She had seaFd thee for herself: for thou hast been 
As one, in suffering all, that suffers nothing ; 
A man, that fortune's buffets and rewards 
Ilast ta'en with equal thanks ; and bless'd are those 
Whose blood and judgment are so well commingled, 
That they are not a pipe for Fortune's finger 
To sound what stop she- please : Give me that man 
That is not passion's slave, and I will wear him 
In my heart's core, ay, in my heart of heart. 
As I do thee. IT. iii. 2. 

Who, in want, a hollow friend doth try. 
Directly seasons him an enemy. H. iii. 2. 

0, you gods ! think I, what need we have any friends ? 
they were the most needless creatures living, if we should 
never have need of them ? They would most resemble 
sweet instruments hung up in cases, that keep their sounds 
to themselves. We are born to do benefits. what a pre- 
cious comfort ^tis to have so many like brothers, command- 
ing one another's fortunes ! T, A. i. 2, 
Commend me to him ; I will send his ransom ; 
And, being enfranchis'd, bid him come to me ; — 
''Tis not enough to help the feeble up. 
But to support him after. T, A. i. 1. 
The dearest friend to me, the kindest man, 
The best-condition^ and unweary'd spirit 
In doing courtesies ; and one in whom 
The antient Roman honour more appears, 
Than any that draws breath in Italy. M, V. iii. 2. 
I count myself in nothing else so happy, 
As in a soul remembering my good friends ; 
And as my fortune ripens with my love. 
It shall be still my true love's recompense. R. II. ii. 3. 

We still have slept together. 
Rose at an instant, learn'd, play'd, eat together ; 


FRi llfukrijjiEitriiiH Dirtinnnnj. mi 

YRIY^KD,— continued. 

And wheresoever ^Ye went, like Juno's swans 

Still WQ Avent coupled and inseparable. A.Y. i. 3. 

So we grew together, 
Like to a double cherry, seeming parted, 
But yet a union in partition, 
Two lovely berries moulded Qn one stem. M. iV. iii. 2. 

Pay him six thousand, and defoce the bond, 

Double six thousand, and then treble that, 

Before a friend of this description 

Shall lose a hair through my Bassanio's fault. M. V. iii. 2. 

The amity that wisdom knits not, folly may easily untie. 

I should fear those, who dance before mo now, 
Would one day stamp upon me : It has been done ; 
Men shut their doors against a sotting sun. T, A. i. 2. 

Every man will bo thy friend 

While thou hast wherewithal to spend ; 

But if store of crowns bo scant, 

No man will supply thy want. Poems, 

There are no tricks in plain and simple faith; 

But hollow men, like horses hot at hand, 

jMake gallant show and promise of their mettle ; 

But when they should endure tlie bloody spur, 

They fall i\\v\v crests, and, like deceitful jades. 

Sink in the trial. /. (7. iv. 2. 

is all the counsel that we two have shar'd. 

The sisters' vows, the hours that we have spent, 

When we have cliid the hasty-f )oted time 

For parting us, — 0, is all now forgot ? 

All school-days' friendship, childhood innocence? 

if. K iii. 2. 
The great man down, you mark his favourite flies, 
The poor advanc'd makes friends of enemies. 
And hitherto doth love on fortune tend ; 
For who not needs, shall never lack a friend ; 
And who in want a hollow friend doth try, 
Directly seasons him an enemy. IT. iii. 2, 

Friendship's full of dregs. T. A. i. 2. 

Canst thou the conscience lack, 
To think I shall lack friends ? Secure thy heart ; 
If I could broach the vessels of my love. 
And try the argument of hearts by borrowing. 
Men, and men's fortunes, could I frankly use, 
As I can bid thee speak. T. A, ii. 2. 


pRi IliakBHpBariiiii Birtinnatti. fri 


Thou dost conspire against thy friend, lago, 

If thou "but think'st him wrong'd, and mak'st his ear 

A stranger to thy thoughts. 0, iii. 3 

let me twine 
Mine arms about that body, where against 
My grained ash an hundred times hath broke, 
And scarM the moon with splinters ! Here I clip 
The anvil of my-SAA^ord ; and do contest 
As hotly and as nobly with thy. loA^e, 
As ever in ambitious strength I did 
Contend against thy valour. C. iv. 5 

Friendship is constant in all other things, 

Save in the office and affairs of love. , M. A. ii. 1 

By heaven, I cannot flatter ! I defy 
The tongues of soothers ; but a braver place 
In my heart's love, hath no man than yourself; 
Nay, task me to my word ; approve me, •lord. 

H. IV, PT. I. iv. 1 
Brutus hath riv'd my heart: 
A friend should bear his friend's infirmities, 
But Brutus makes mine greater than they are. J. C. iv. 3. 

Give him all kindness : I had rather have 

Such men my friends, than enemies. J. C, v. 4. 

That we have been familiar, 
Ingrate forgetfulness shall poison, rather 
Than pity note how much. C, v. 2. 

Now do I play the touch, 
To trv if thou be current gold indeed. B, III. iv. 2. 


I have not from your eyes that gentleness. 

And show of love, as 1 was wont to have : 

You bear too stu])l)orn, and too strange a hand, 

Over your friend that loves you. J. C. i. 2. 

Thou hast described 
A hot friend cooling : Ever note, Lucilius, 
When love begins to sicken and decay, 
It useth an enforced ceremony. J, C. iv. 2, 

Mere fetches : 
- The images of revolt and flying off. K. L. ii. 4 

FRIENDSHIP Assimilates Friexds. 
For in companions 
That do converse and waste the time together, 
Whose souls do bear an ennnl yoke of love, 


FRi IjjakBHjiEariEE BitiiniiEni. fut 

FRIENDSHIP Assimilates Friends, — continued. 
There must be needs a like proportion 
Of lineaments, of manners, and of spirit. ■ M. V. ill, 4. 

FRIGIDITY (See also Coldness). 

What a frosty-spirited rogue is this I H. IV, pt. i. ii. 3. 


He parted frowning from me, as if ruin 

Leap'd from his eyes. H. VIIL ii. 2 


Her obsequies have been as far enlarged 

As we have warranty : Her death was doubtful ; 

And, but that great command o'er-sways the order, 

She should in ground unsanctified have lodgM 

Till the last trumpet ; for charitable prayers, 

Shards, flints, and pebbles, should be thrown on her ; 

Yet here she is allow'd her virgin rites. 

Her maiden strewments, and the bringing home 

Of bell, and butial. E v. 1. 

Let it be so, and let Andronicus 

Make this his latest farewell to their souls. 

In peace and honour rest you here, my sons ; 

Rome's readiest champions, repose you here, 

Secure from worldly chances and mishaps. Tit. And. i. 2 


Though fond nature bids us all lament. 
Yet nature's tears are reason's merriment R. J. iv. 5 

But yet 
It is our trick ; nature her custom holds. 
Let shame say what it will. H. iv. 7 

Comfort, dear mother ; God is much displeas'd, 
That you take with unthankfulness his doing ; 
In common worldly things, 'tis call'd — ungrateful, 
With dull unwillingness to repay a debt. 
Which with a bounteous hand was kindly lent. E. IIL ii. 2 


0, I warrant, how he mammock'd it ! C. i. 3 

Let me speak ; and let me rail so high. 
That the false housewife, Fortune, break her wheel, 
Provok'd by mv offence. A.C. iv. 18 

I understand a fury in your words, 
Rut not the words. j 0. iv. 2, 


that a man might know 
The end of this day's business, ere it come ! /. C. v. 1. 


^Ai lliiikopriiriiiii Birtinnarti:. giio 



See, where she comes, apparell'd like the spring. P. P. i. 1. 
Flora, peering in April's fi'ont. W,T. iv. 3. 


Trim gallants, full of courtship and of state. L. L. v. 2. 

Traveird gallants 
That fill the court with quarrels, talk, and tailors. 

H. VIIL i. a 


I'll be swot-n thou art ; 
Thy tongue, thy face, thy limbs, actions, and spirit, 
Do give thee iive-fold blazon. T. N. i. 4. 

A gentleman born, master parson, who writes himself 
armigero ; on any bill, warrant, quittance, or obligation, 
armigero. M.W. i. J. 


We are gentlemen, 
That neither in our hearts, nor outward eyes. 
Envy the great, nor do the low despise. P. P. ii. 3 


Peering in maps for ports, and piers, ind roads. M.V. i. 1. 

GHOST (See also Apparition-s, Spirits, Terror, Guilt). 
For it is, as the air, invulnerable, 

And our vain blows malicious mockery. ^. i. 1. 

Angels, and ministers of grace, defend us ! 
35e thou a spirit of health, or goblin damn'd, 
Bring with thee airs from heaven, or blasts from hell, 
Be thy intents wicked, or charitalile, 
Thou com'st in such a questionable shape, 
That I will speak to thee. H. i. 4. 

But, soft: behold! lo where it comes again ! 

rU cross it, though it blast me. — Stay, illusion! 

If thou hast any sound, or use a voice, 

Speak to me. ]J, 1. 1 . 

What may this mean, 
That thou, dead corse, again, in complete steel, 
Kevisit'st thus the glimpses of the moon, 
Making night hideous ; and we, fools of nature, 
So horridly to shak ) our disposition, 

145 IS 

Giro |'iinltBH|iB{iriiiii Btrtintiarii. glo 

GHOST, ■^continued. 

With thoughts beyond the reaches of our souls? 

Say, why is this ? H.i. 4, 

My hour is almost come, 
When I to sulphurous and tormenting flames 
Must render up myself. HA. 5. 

0, answer me : 
Let me not burst in ignorance ! but tell, 
Why thy canonizM bones, hearsM in death, 
Have burst their cerements ! why the sepulchre, 
AVherein we saw thee quietly inurn^d 
Hath opM his ponderous and marble jaws, 
To cast thee up again. ff.\. A, 

Why, what care I ? If thOu canst nod, speak too, — 
If charnel-houses, and our graves, must send 
Those that we bury, back, our monuments 
Shall be the maws of kites. M. iii. 4. 

The ghost of Caesar hath appeared to me 
Two several times by night : at Sardis, once ; 
And, this last night, here in Philippi fields. 
I know, my hour is come. J.C, v. 5, 

GIFTS (See also Love Tokens). 

Well, God give them wisdom that have it : and those that 
are fools, let them use their talents. T. iV. i. 5. 

A giving hand, though foul, shall have fair praise. 

i.i. iv.l. 
Gifts then seem 
Most precious, when the giver we esteem. Poems, 

Win her with gifts, if she respect not words ; 
Dumb jewels often, in their silent kind, 
More quick than words, do move a woman's mind. 

She prizes not such trifles as these are : 
The gifts, she looks from me, are pack'd and lock'd 
Up in my heart ; which I have given already. 
But not deliverM. W. T, iv. 3. 

Seven hundred pounds, and possibilities, is good gifts. 

I am not in the giving vein to day. R. III. iv. 2. 


Glory is like a circle in the water, 

Which never ceascth to enlarge itself, 

'Till, by broad spreading, it disperse to nought. 

M. VL FT. I. i. 2. 


ooL Ijurfcrspiiriiiii 5irtiniiiin[. gol 

GOLD (See also Money). 

Saint-seducing gold. B. /. i. L 

thou sweet king-killer, and dear divorce 

'Twixt natural son and sire ! thou bright defiler 

Of Hvmen's purest bed ! thou valiant Mars I 

Thou ever young, fresh, lovM, and delicate wooer, 

Whose blush doth thaw the consecrated snow 

That lies on Dianas lap ! thou visible god, 

That solder^st close impossibilities, 

And mak^st them kiss ! that speak'st with every tongue, 

To every purpose ! T, A, iv, 3 

For this the foolish over-careful fathers 

Have broke their sleep with thoughts, their brains with care^ 

Their bones with industry ; 

For this they have engrossed and piFd up 

The cankered heaps of strange-achieved gold ; 

For this they have been thoughtful to invest 

Their sons with arts, and martial exercises r 

When, like the bee, tolling from every flower, 

The virtuous sweets ; 

Our thighs are pack'd with wax, our mouths with honey, 

We bring it to the hive ; and, like the bees. 

Are murdered for our pains. II. IF. pt. ii. iv. 4. 

And His gold 
Which makes the true man kilFd, and saves the thief; 
Nay, sometimes han2;a both thief and true man : what 
Can it not do, and undo ? Cf/m. ii. 3. 

Thus much of this, will make black white ; foul, fair ; 

Wrong, right ; base, noble ; old, young ; coward, valiant. 

Ila, ye gods ! Why this ? What, this, you gods ? Why this 

Will lug your priests and servants from your sides ; 

Pluck stout men's pillows from below their heads : 

This yellow slave 

Will knit and break religions ; bless the accursed; 

Make the hoar leprosy ador'd ; place thieves, 

And give them title, knee, and approbation, 

With senators on the bench : this is it, 

That makes the wappen'd widow wed again ; 

She, whom the spital house, and ulcerous sores. 

Would cast the gorge at ; this embalms and spices 

To the April day again. . T. A. iv. 3. 

There is thy gold ; worse poison to men's souls, 

Doing more murders in this loathsome world. 

Than these poor compounds that thou mayest not sell. 

i?.X v.L 

GOL lljaktspiiriiiii l)irtiDiiiin[. gor 

GOLD, — continued. 

See, sons, — what things you are ! 
IIow quickly nature falls into revolt, 

AVhen gold becomes her object. H. IV, ft. ii. iv. 4 

Know'st thou not any whom corrupting gold 
Would tempt into a close exploit of death ? E, III. iv. 2, 
I know a discontented gentleman. 
Whose humble means match not his haughty mind : 
Gold were as good as twenty orators, 

And will, no doubt, tempt him to any thing. R. III. iv. 2. 
thou touch of hearts I T. A. iv. o. 

GOOD MAN, Commercial Definition of a. 

My meaning in saying he is a good man, is to have you 
understand me, he is sufficient. M. F. i. 3. 


When good manners shall lie all in one or two men's 
hands, and they unwash'd too, 'tis a foul thing. R. J. i. 5. 

GOODNESS TO BE Always Preferred. 

Angels are bright still, though the brightest fell. M. iv. 3. 


Well, I cannot last for ever: But it was always j^et the 
trick of our English nation, if they have a good thing, to 
make it too common. If you will needs say I am an old 
man, you should give me rest. I would to God my name 
were not so terrible to the enemy as it is. I were bettor to 
be eaten to death with rust, than to be scoured to nothing 
with perpetual motion. H. IV. ft. ii. i. 2. 


One in ten, luoth a' ! an we might have a good woman 
born but eve-y blazing star, or at an earthquake, 'twould 
mend the Intiexy well: a man may draw his heart out ere 
he pluck one. A. W» i. 3. 


How far that little candle throws his beams ! 

So shines a good deed in a naughty world. M. V. v. i. 


Fat paunches have lean pates ; and dainty bits 

Make rich the ribs, but bank'rout quite the wits. L. L. i. 1, 

Make less thy b'^dy, hence, and more thy grace : 

Leave gormandizing. H. IV. ft. ii. v. 5. 

Thou shalt not gormandize, 
As thou has don« Avith me : 
A.nd sleep, and snore, and rend apparel out. M.V. ii. 5 


GRA |liaki!S|iiiirifiii Uirtinnartf, ghj 


A grandam's name is little less in love, 

Than is the doating title of a mother ; 

They are as children, but one step below ; 

Even of your mettle, of ^^our very blood. B,III. iv. 4. 


I have five hundred crowns, 
The thrifty hire I savM under your father, 
Which I did store to be my jf )ster nurse, 
When service should in my old Ihnlis lie lame, 
And unregarded age in corners thrown ; 
Take thtit: and He. that doth the ravens feed, 
Yea, providently caters for the sparrow, 
33e comfort to mine age. A.Y, ii. 3. 

Thou canst not in the course of gratitude, but be a diligent 
follower of mine. C//m. iii. 5. 

Kind gentleman, your pains 
Are register'd, where every day I turn 
The leaf to read them. M. i. 3, 

Let never day nor night unhallowM pass, 
But still remember what the Lord hath done. 

//. VL FT. II. ii. 1. 
Would thou had'st less deservM ; 
That the proportion both of thanks and payment 
Might have been mine I M. i. 4. 


Secure from worldly chances and mishaps ! 

Here lurks no treason, here no envy swells, 

Here grow no damned grudges ; here are no storms, 

No noise, but silence and eternal sleep. Tit. And. i. 2. 

The grave doth gape, and doting death is near. H. V. ii. 1. 

Let us 
Find out the prettiest daisied spot we cnn, 
And make him, with our pikes and partizans, 
A grave. Cijm, iv. 2, 


And let my grave-stone be your oracle. T. A. v. ^, 


And you may know Dy my size, that I have a kind 

of alacrity in sinking ; if the bottom were as deep as heli, 
I should down. 31. W, iii. 5: 

GRAVITY, Affected. 

There are a sort of men, whose visages 

Do cream and mantle, like a standing pond ; 

<5RA |l)nkf]j|irnriii!i Birtinnarti, onK 

OIIAYITY, Affected, — conthmed. 

And do a wilful stillness entertain, 

'\V^ith ])urpose to be dress'd in an opinion 

Of wisdom, ^rravity, profound conceit; 

As who should say, I am Sir Oracle, 

And when I ope my lips, let no dog bark ! M.V. i. l-_ 

GREATNESS (See also Kings, Authority). 

Some are born great: — some achieve greatness; — soma 
have greatness thrust upon them. T. N. iii. 4. 

Rightly to be great, 
Ts, not to stir without great argument ; 
But greatly to find quarrel in a straw, 

AVhen honour's at the stake. II. iv. 4. 

Would you praise Caesar, say, — Caesar; go no further. 


Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world, 

Like a Colossus ; and we petty men 

Walk under his huge legs, and peep about, 

To find ourselves dishonourable graves. J.C. i. 2. 

This man 
Is now become a god; and Cassius is 
A vt retched creature, and must bend his body, 
If Csesar carelessly but nod at him. J.C. i. 2. 

The abuse of greatness is, when it disjoins 
Remorse from power. J.C. ii. 1. 

Great men may jest with saints : His wit in them ; 
But, in the less, foul profanation. 
That, in the captain's but a choleric word, 
Which in the soldier is flat blasphemy. M. M, ii. 2. 

GREETING (See also Salutation). 

A hundred thousand welcomes : I could weep. 

And I could laugh ; I am light, and heavy : Welcome: 

A curse begin at very root of his heart, 

That is not glad to see thee ! C. ii. 1. 

The Lord in heaven bless thee, noble Harry ! H.V. iv. 1. 

God-a-mercy, old heart ! thou speakest cheerfully. 

//. F. iv. 1. 
Why have you stolen upon us thus ! You come not 
Like Caesar's sister ; the wife of Antony 
Should have an army for an usher, and 
The neigh? of horse to tell of her approach, 
Long ere she did appear ; the trees by the way. 
Should have borne men ; and expectation fainted, 
liOnging for what it had not : nay, the dust 


ORE Ijiakoparian Birtintiarti. gri 

GREETING,— cow^^mwefZ. 

Should have ascended to the roof of heaven, 

RaisM by your populous troops : But you are come 

A market-maid to Rome ; and have prevented 

The ostentation of our love, w^hich, left unshovrn, 

Is often left unlovM : we should have met you 

E}^ sea, and land ; supplying every stage 

With an augmented greeting. A. C iii. 6. 

■ Simple. 

Trust me, sweet. 
Out of this silence yet I pick'd a welcome ; 
And in the modesty of fearful duty 
I read as much, as from the rattling tongue 
Of saucy and audacious eloquence. 
Love, therefore, and tongue-tied simplicity 
In least, speak most, to my capacity. M. iV. v. 1. 

GRIEF (See also Lamentation, Sorrow, Tears). 

Can counsel, and speak comfort to that grief 
Which they themselves not feel ; but, tasting it, 
Their counsel turns to passion, which before 
Would give preceptial medicine to rage. 
Fetter strong madness with a silken thread, 
Charm ache with air, and agony with words. 
No, no ; 'tis all men's office to speak patience 
To those that wring under a load of sorrow; 
But no man's virtue, nor sufficiency. 
To be so moral, when he shall endure 
The like himself: therefore give me no counsel ; 
My griefs cry louder than advertisement. M. A.yA, 

When remedies are past, the griefs are ended, 
}^J seeing the worst, which late on hopes depended. 
To mourn a mischief that is past and gone, 
Is the next way to draw new mischief on. 
What cannot be prcsorv'd when fortune takes. 
Patience her injury a mockery makes. 
The robb'd, that smiles, steals something from the thief: 
He robs himself, that spends a bootless grief. O. i. ^^ 

I cannot but remember such things were 
That were most precious to me. M. iv. 3. 

Why tell you me of moderation? 
The grief is fine, full, perfect, which I taste, 
And no less in a sense ns strong 
As that which cause th it : How can I moderate it ? 
If I could temporize with my affection, 
Or brew it to a weak and colder palate, 


GRi llmlttspiitiiiii Dirtinnirnj;. gri 

GRIEF, — continued. 

The like allaymont could T give my grief; 

My love admits no qualifying cross : 

No more my grief, in such a precious loss. T. O. iv. 4. 

The heart hath treble wrong, 
When it is barr'd the aidance of the tongue. Poems, 

Some grief shows much of love ; 
But much of grief shows still some want of wit. 

B. J. iii. 5. 

My grief lies all within, 
And these external manners and laments 
Are merely shadows to the unseen grief. 
That swells with silence in the tortur'd soul. i?. 11. iv. 1. 
A plague of sighing and grief! it blows a man up like 
a bladder. H. IV. ft. i.-ii. 4. 

The gods rebuke me, but it is a tidings 
To wash the eyes of kings. A.C. v. 1. 

I pray thee, cease thy counsel. 
Which falls into mine ears as profitless 
As water in a sieve : give not me counsel. 
Nor let no comforter delight mine ear, 
But such a one whose wrongs do suit with mine. 

M. A. v. 1. 
Give sorrow words: the grief that does not speak. 
Whispers the o'er-fraught heart, and makes it break. 

M. iv. 3. 
Like the lily. 
That once was mistress of the field, and flourished, 
I'll hang my head, and perish. £[. VIIL iii. 1. 

Your causQ of sorrow 
Must not be measured by its worth, for then 
It hath no end. M.y.1. 

Is there no pity sitting in the clouds. 

That sees into the bottom of my grief? R. J. iii. 5. 

Had he the motive and the cue for passion, 
y- That I have, he would drown the stage with tears, 
''/ And cleave the general ear with horrid speech; 
Make mad the guilty, and appal the free. 
Confound the ignorant, and amaze, indeed, 
The very faculties of eyes and ears. H. ii. 2. 

Thou canst not speak of what thou dost not feel: 
Wert thou as young as I, Juliet thy love, 
An hour but married, Tybalt murdered, 
Boating like me, and like me banished, 
Then might'st thou speak, then might^st thou tear thy hair, 


GRi |ljnkiH|iEariaii BirtinHarti. gri 

GRIEF, — continued. 

And fall upon the giound, as I do now, 
Taking the measure of an unmade grave. R.J. iii. 3. 

Grief softens the mind, and makes it fearful and de- 
generate. H, VI. PT. II. iv. 4 

There she shook 
The holy water from her heavenly eyes, 
And clamour-moisten'd : then away she started. 
To deal with grief alone. K. L. iv. 3 

0, insupportable ! 0, heavy hour 1 
Methinks it should be now a huge eclipse 
Of sun and moon, and that the affrighted globe 
Should yawn at alteration. 0. v. 2. 

Good, my lords, 
I am not prone to weeping, as our sex 
Commonly are ; the want of which vain dew. 
Perchance, shall dry your pities ; but I have 
That honourable grief lodg'd here, which burns 
Worse than tears drown. ^W.T. ii. 1. 

Woe doth the heavier sit, 
AYhere it perceives it is but faintly borne. R. II. i. 3, 

My lord ; — I found the prince in the next room, 

Washing with kindly tears his gentle cheeks ; 

AVith such a deep demeanour in great sorrow, 

That tyranny, which never quaff'd but blood. 

Would, by beholding him, have washed his knife 

With gentle eye-drops. H. IV. pt. ii. iv. 4. 

"^ One of the prettiest touches of all, and that which angled 
for mine eyes (caught the water, though not the fish) was, 
when at the relation of the queen's death, with the manner 
how she came to it, (bravely confessed and lamented by 
the king), how attentiveness wounded his daughter: till, 
from one sign of dolour to another, she did, with an alas ! 
I would fain say, bleed tears ; for, I am sure, my heart wept 
blood. Who was most marble there, changed colour ; some 
swooned, dll sorrowed : if all the world could have seen it, 
the woe had been universal. W.T. v. 2. 

Care is no cure, but rather corrosive. 

For things that are not to be remedied. ff. VL pt. i. iii. 5. 

Why do you keep alone. 
Of sorries' fancies your companions making? 
Using those thoughts, which should indeed have died 
With them they think on ? Things without all remedy 
Should be without regard. if. iii. 2, 

3RI IIiaki^jsprEriaH lirtinnarij. gri 

GRIEF, — continued. 

These tidings nip me : and I hang the head, 

As flowers with frost, or grass beat down with storms* 

Tit. And As, 4u 
Nor doth the general care 
Take hold on me ; for my particular grief 
Is of so flood-gate and overbearing nature, 
That it engluts and swallows other sorrows, 
And it is still itself. 0. i. 3. 

Many a morning hath he there been seen, 
With tears augmenting the fresh morning's dew, 
Adding to clouds more clouds with his deep sighs. 

0, I could play the woman with mine eyes, 
And braggart with my tongue ! M. iv. 3, 

Now my soul's palace is become a prison: 
Ah, would she break from hence ! that this my body 
Might in the ground be closed up in rest ; 
For never henceforth shall I joy again. H. VL pt. hi. ii. 1. 
How now 1 has sorrow made thee dote already ? 

Tit. And. iii. 2. 
His grief grew puissant, and the strings of life 
Began to crack. K. L» v. 3, 

But let not therefore my good friends be griev'd, 
Nor construe any further my neglect, 
Than that poor Brutus, with himself at war, 
Forgets the shows of love to other nien. /. C. i. 2, 

All things that we ordained festival, 
Turn from their office to black funeral : 
Our instruments, to melancholy bells : 
Our wedding cheer, to a sad burial feast ; 
Our solemn hymns to sullen dirges change ; 
Our bridal flowers serve for a buried corse. 
And all things change them to the contrary. R.J. iv. 5. 

Once a day I'll visit 
The chapel where they lie : and tears, shed there, 
Shall be my recreation: so long as Nature 
Will bear up with this exorcise, so long 
I daily vow to use it. W.T. iii. 2. 

break, my heart ! — poor bankrupt, break at once ! 
To prison, eyes ! ne'er look on liberty ! 
Vile earth, to earth resign ; end, motion, here ; 
And thou, and Romeo, press one heavy bier. E. J. iii. 2. 

Sorrow, and grief of heart. 
Made him speak fondly, like a frantic man. E. II. iii. 3 , 

GRi |lialu3{iMrinii BirtiDiiEtti^ gri 

GRIEF, — continued. 

Most subject is the fattest soil to weeds ; 
And he, the noble image of my youth, 
Is overspread with them : therefore my grief 
Stretches itself beyond the hour of death. 

H. IV. PT. II. iv. 4. 
We must be patient : but I cannot choose but weep, to 
think they should lay him i^ the cold ground. H. iv. 5. 

Bind up those tresses : 0, what love I note 
In the fair multitude of those her hairs ! 
AYhere but by chance a silver drop hath fallen, 
Even to that drop ten thousand wiry friends 
Do glew themselves in sociable grief; 
Like true, inseparable, faithful loves, 
Sticking together in calamity. K. J. iii 4. 

There^s nothing in this world can make me joy : 

Life is as tedious as a twice-told tale, 

Yexing the dull ear of a drowsy man. K. J. iii. 4. 

Every one can master a grief, but he that has it. 

i!f.^. iii. 2. 
What fates impose, that men must needs abide ; 
It boots not to resist both wind and tide. 

H. VL PT. III. iv. 3. 
Wise men ne'er sit and wail their loss, 
But cheerly seek how to redress their harms. 

H. VL PT. III. V. 4, 
What is he whose grief 
Bears such an emphasis ? whose phrase of sorrow 
Conjures the wandering stars, and makes them stand 
Like wonder- wounded hearers ? H. v. i. 

Friend, I owe more tears 
To this dead man, than thou shalt see me pay. J,0, v. 3. 

Strange it is, 
That nature must compel us to lament 
Our most persisted deeds. A.C. v. I. 

Great griefs, I see, medicine the less. Cynt. iv. 2. 

AVhat's gone, and what's past help. 
Should be past grief. W.T. iii. 2. 

Spirits of peace, where are ye ? Are ye all gone ? 
And leave me here in wretchedness behind ye ? 

^.FIZJ. iv. 2. 
0, that I were as great 
As is my grief! E. U. iii 3, 


OKI llmlvrspEtiiin Dirtiniinni. gri 

G Ul^Y.—conimued, 

And but he^s something stainM 
With grief, that's beauty's canker, thou might'st call him 
A goodly person. T, i. 2. 

I have in equal balance justly weight, 

What wrongs our arms may do, what wrongs we suffer, 

And find our griefs heavier than our offences. 

H,IY. FT. II. iv. 1. 

All of us have cause 
To wail the dimming of our shining star ; 
But none can cure their harms by wailing them. 

B. IIL ii. 2. 

Why, courage, then ! what cannot be avoided, 
'Twere childish weakness to lament, or fear. 

H. VI. FT. III. v. 4. 

• Maternal. 

And, father cardinal, I have heard jon say, 

That we shall see and know our friends in heaven 

If that be true, I shall see my boy again ; 

For, since the birth of Cain, the first nmle child, 

To him that did but yesterday suspire. 

There was not such a* gracious creature born. 

But now will canker sorrow^ eat my bud, 

And chase the native beauty from his cheek ; 

And he will look as hollow as a ghost. 

As dim. and meagre as an ague's fit ;• 

And so he'll die ; and, rising so again, 

When I shall meet him in the court of heaven 

I shall not know him : therefore, never, never. 

Must I behold my pretty^ Arthur more. K. J. iii. 4, 

He talks to me that never had a son. K. J. iii. 4 

Grief fills the room up of my absent child. 

Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me ; 

Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words, 

Kcmembers me of all his gracious parts, 

Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form ; 

Then have I reason to be fond of grief. 

Fare you well : had you such a loss as I, 

I could give better comfort than you do. — 

I will not keep this form upon my head. 

When there is such disorder in my wit. 

O lord, my boy, my Arthur, my fair son ! 

My life, m.y joy, my food, my all the world ! 

My widow-comfort, and my sorrow's cure ! X.J. iii. 4, 


npj tliiikt3|iMriiiii Birtimiitrif. gui 


The violence of either grief or joy, 

Tiieir own enactures with themselves destroy: 

Where joy most revels, grief chjth most lament ; 

Grief joys, joy grieves, on slender accident. H. iii. 2. 


thus, quoth Dighton, lay the gentle babes, — 
Thus, thus, quoth Forrest, girdling one another, 
Within their alabaster innocent arms. B. III. iv. 3 


So full of artless jealousy is guilt. 

It spills itself in fearing to be spilt. H. iy. 5, 

Guiltiness \vill speak 
Though tongues were out of use. 0, y, L 

Have you heard the argument? Is there no offence in it? 

E. iii. 2. 
And then it started like a guilty thing 
Upon a fearful summons. H. i. 1 

The guilt being great, the fear doth still exceed. Poems. 
I'll haunt thee like a wicked conscience still, 
That mouldeth goblins swift as frenzy thoughts. T.O. v. IL 

Infected minds 
To their deaf pillows w^ill discharge their secrets. M, v. 1. 
My words fly up, my thoughts remain below; 
Words without thoughts never to heaven go. H- iii. 3. 

GUILTY Career, the Close of a. 

1 have liv'd long enough ; my way of life 
Is fallen into the sear, the yellow leaf ; 
And that which should accompany old age, 
As honour, love, obedience, troops of friends, 
I must not look to have ; but, in their stead. 
Curses not loud, but deep, mouth-honour, breath,^ 
Which the poor heart would fain deny, but dare not. 

M. V. 3. 


What win the guilty, gaining what they seek ? 

A dream, a breath, a froth of fleeting joy ! 

For one sw^eet grape, who will the vine destroy ? 
Who buys a minute's mirth to wail a week? 

Or sells eternity to get a toy ? Foems. 


HAB IjialtJSpEiiriiiii Birtiniiani. ha^ 

HABIT (See also Custom). 

For use almost can change the stamp of nature 

And either curb the devil, or throw him out 

With wondrous potency. jST. iii« 4, 

The tyrant custom, most grave senators. 

Hath made the flinty and steel couch of war 

My thrice driven bed of down. 0. i<3 


Fore God, you have here a goodly dwelling, and a rich. 

ir. IF. FT. II. v. 3. 


Stoop, boys : this gate 
Instructs you how to adore the heavens ; and bows you 
To morning's holy office : The gates of monarchs 
Are arch'd so high, that giants jet through 
And keep their impious turbans on, without 
Good morrow to the sun. Hail, thou fiiir heaven 1 
We house i'the rock, yet use thee not so hardly 
As prouder livers do. Ct/m. ui. 3. 


A halter, gratis ; nothing else, for God's sake. M, V. iv. ^ 


0, that her hand, 
In whose comparison all whites are ink, 
A\^riting their OAvn reproach ; To whose soft seizure 
The cygnet's down is harsh, and spirit of sense 
Hard as the palm of ploughmen. T.C, i. I, 


Lord I he will hang u^on him like a disease : he u 
sooner caught than the pestilence, and the taker runs pre- 
sently mad. M.A, i. 1. 


the charity of a penny cord ! it sums up thousands in 
a trice: you have no true debitor and creditor but it: of 
what's past, is, and to come, the discharge : Your neck, Sir, 
is pen, book, and counters, so the acquittance follows. 

Cj/m. V. 4. 

A heavy reckoning for you, Sir ; but the comfort is, you 
shall be called to no more payments, fear no more tavera 
bills : which are often the sadness of parting, as the pro- 
curing of mirth : yuu come in faint for want of meat, dPT)ari; 

iiAN Ijuktspurimi Dirtintinni. hat 

HANGING, — continued, 

reeling with too much drink ; — •»<•** purse and brain both 
empty. Cym. v. 4. 

Hanging is the word, Sir ; if you be ready for that, you 
are well cookM. Cym. v. 4. 

I have great comfort from this fellow : methinks he hath 
no drowning mark upon him ; his complexion is perfect 
gallows. Stand fast, good fate, to his hanging ! make the 
rope of his destiny our cable, for our own doth little advan- 
tage ! If he be not born to be hanged, our case is miserable. 

T. i. 1. 


Some of the best of them were hereditary hangmen. 

C. ii.l 

Each object with a joy ; the counterchange 
Is severally in all. Cym. v. o. 

But, 0, how bitter a thing it is to look into happiness 
through another man's eyes I A. Y. v. 2. 


If it were now to die, 
■'Twere now to be most happy ; for, I fear, 
My soul hath her content so absolute, 
That not another comfort like to this 
Succeeds in unknown fate. 0. ii. 1. 


There's not the smallest orb which thou behold'st, 

But in his motion like an angel sings, 

Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubim : 

Such harmony is in immortal souls ; — 

But, whilst this muddy vesture of decay 

Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it. M. V, v. 1. 


Were half to half the world by th^ ears, and he 

Upon my party, I'd revolt, to make 

Only my wars with him : he is a lion 

That I am proud to hunt. C. i 1. 

Nor sleep, nor sanctuary, 
Being naked, sick : nor fane, nor capitol, 
The prayers of priests, nor times of sacrifice, 
Embarquements all of fury, shall lift up 
Their rotten privilege and custom 'gainst 
My hate to Marcius : where I find him, were it 
At home, upon my brother's guard, even there. 


HAT |liiikES|iMriiin Birtinnnrtf^ her 


Against the hospitable canon, would I 

Wash my fierce hand in 's heart. C, i. 10, 

Cancel his bond of life, dear God, I pray, 

That I may live to say, — the dog is dead ! E. III. iv. 4, 

How like a fawning publican he looks 1 

I hate him, for he is a christian : 

But more, for that, in Ioav simplicity, 

He lends out money gratis, and brings down 

The rate of usance here with us in Venice. M. V. i. 3, 

Alas, poor York ! but that I hate thee deadly, 
I should lament thy miserable state. 
I pr'ythee, grieve, to make me merry, York ; 
Stamp, rave, and fret, that I may sing and dance. 

H. VL PT. m. L 4. 
I'll not be made a soft and dull-eyM fool. 
To shake the head, relent, and sigh, and yield 
To christian intercessors. if. F. iii. 3. 

If I can catch him once upon the hip, 
I will feed fat the antient grudge I bear him. M. V. i. 3. 


A good leg will fall ; a strait back will stoop ; a black 
beard will turn white ; a curled pate will grow bald ; a fair 
face will wither ; a full eye will wax hollow : but a good 
heart, Kate, is the sun and moon ; or, rather, the sun, and 
not the moon ; for it shines bright, and never changes, but 
keeps his course truly. H. Y- v. 2, 

A light heart lives long. X. L, v. 2. 

■ Breaking. 

But his flaw'd heart, 
(Alack, too weak the conflict to support!) 
^Twixt two extremes of passion, joy and grief, 
Burst smilingly. K. L. v. 3 


Of six preceding ancestors, that gem 

Conferred by testament to the sequent issue, 

Hath it been own'd and worn. A.W.y,Z 

It is an honour ^longing to our house. 

Bequeathed down from many ancestors. 

Which were the greatest obloquy i' the world, 

In me to lose. A. W. iv. 2, 


There is an old tale goes, that Heme, the hunter, 
Some time a keeper here in Windsor forest, 
Both all the winter time, at still midnight, 


HEB |)^ElvBii|iBariiiii Dirtinimni. iiig 

IIERNE'S Oak,— continued. 

A7alk round about an oak, with great raggM horns ; 
And there he blasts the tree, and takes the cattle ; 
And makes milch kine yield blood, and shakes a chain 
In a most hideous and dreadful manner. M. W, iv. 4. 

HERO, Military, Pretended. 

Such fellows are perfect in great commanders' names : 
and they will learn you by rote where services are done. 

H. V. iii. 6. 

What a beard of the general's cut, and a horrid suit of 

the camp, will do among foaming; bottles, and ale-washed 

Avits, is wonderful to be thought on ! If. V. iii. 6. 


Either our history shall, with full mouth, 

Speak freely of our acts ; or else our grave, 

Like Turkish mute, shall have a tongueless mouth, 

Nor worship'd with a waxen epitaph. //. F. i. 2. 

By his light, 
Did all the chivalry of England move 
To do brave acts : he was, indeed, the glass 
Wherein the noble youth did dress themselves. 

H. IV. FT. II. ii. 3. 
A true knight ; 
Not yet mature, yet matchless ; firm of word, 
Speaking in deeds, and deedless in his tongue ; 
Not soon provok'd, nor, being provok'd, soon calm'd : 
His heart and hand both open, and both free ; 
For what he has, he gives ; what thinks, he shows ; 
Yet gives he not till judgment guide his bounty, 
Nor dignifies an impair thought with breath : 
Manly as Hector, but more dangerous ; 
Tor Hector, in his blaze of wrath, subscribes 
To tender objects, but he, in heat of action, 
Is more vindicative than jealous love. T.C. iv. 5. 

HESITATION (See also Irresolution). 
Now, wdiether it be 
Bestial oblivion, or some craven scruple 
Of thinking too precisely on the event, — 
A thought, which, quarter'd, hath but one part wisdom. 
And, ever, three parts coward, — I do not know 
While yet I live to say, — This thing's to do, H. iv. 4. 


Gentlemen of the shade, minions of the moon. 

H, IV, PT. I. i. 2. 

HIS lljiikBspiiriiiii Dirtinimtif. hon 


Instructed by the antiquary times, 

He must, he is, he cannot but be wise. T. C. ii. 3. 


A hit, a very palpable hit. H.yr.b. 


To solemnize this day, the glorious sun 

Stays in his course, and plays the alchemist ; 

Turning, with splendour of his precious eye, 

The meagre cloddy earth to glittering gold : 

The yearly course, that brings this day about, 

Shall never see it but a holyday. K. J. iii. 1. 


For never any thing can be amiss, 

When simpleness and duty tender it. M, iV. v. 1. 

HOME-BREEDING (See also Travelling). 

Out of your proof we speak : we, poor unfledg'd, 

Have never wing'd from view o' tlie nest ; nor know not 

What air's from home. Cym. iii. 3. 


Ay, Sir ; to be honest, as this world goes, is to be one 
man picked out of ten thousand. H. ii. 2. 

We need no grave to bury honesty ; 
Th-ere's not a grain of it the face to sweeten 
Of the whole dungy earth. W,T. ii. 1. 

Take note, take note, world, 
To be direct and honest is not safe. 0. iii. 3, 

I am myself indiiferent honest : but yet I could accuse 
me of such things, that it were better my mother had not 
borne me : I am very proud, revengeful, ambitious ; with 
more offences at my beck, than I have thoughts to put them 
in, imagination to give them shape, or time to act them in : 
What should sucli felloAvs as I do crawling between earth 
and heaven ? We are arrant knaves all ; believe none of us. 

E. iii. 1. 
Let me behold 
Thy face. — Surely this man was born of woman. — 
Forgive my general and exceptless rashness, 
Perpetual sober-gods ! I do proclaim 
One honest man, — mistake me not, — but one ; 
No more, I pray, — and he's a steward. T.A. iv. 3. 

There is no terror, Cassius, in your threats 
For I am armed so strong in honesty. 
That they pass by me, as the idle wind, 
Which 1 respect not. J. C. iv. 3, 


HON |lia!vE3|itaxiEii Dirtinudrti, hon 


This tyrant, whose sole name blisters our tongues, 

Was once thought honest. M. iv. 3. 

Ila, ha, what a fool Honesty is ! and Trust, his sworn 
brother, a very simple gentleman I W.T. iv. 3. 

Though I am not naturally honest, I am so sometimes by 
chance. JV.T. iv. 3. 

Every man has his fault, and honesty is his ; I have told 
him on't, but I could never get him from it. 21 A. iii. 1. 

Though honesty be no puritan, yet it will do no hurt. 

A. W. i. 3. 
Mine honesty and I begin to square. A. C. iii. 11 

HONOUR (See also Titles, Reputatiox). 
The purest treasure mortal times alFord, 
Is spotless reputation ; that away, 
Men are but gilded loam or painted clay 
A jewel in a ton times Ijarr'd up <;hest. 
Is a bold spirit in a loyal breast. 
JMine honour is my lif(i ; both grow in one ; 
Take honour from me, and my life is done. R.IL i. 1. 

For 'tis the mind that makes the bod}^ rich ; 
And as the son breaks through the darkest clouds, 
So honour ]")Oereth in the meanest hal)it. 
What, is tliO jay more precious than the lark, 
Because his feathers are more beautiful ? 
Or is the adder better than the eel, 

Because his painted skin contents the eye? T. >S'. iv. 3. 

By heaven, motliinks it were an easy leap. 
To pluck bright honour fr(un the palo-fac'd moon; 
Or dive into the bottom of tlie dec^p. 
Where fathom-line could never touch the ground, 
And pluck up drowned honour by the locks ; 
So he, that doth redeem her thence, might wear, 
AVithout corrival, all her dignities : 

But out upon this half-fic'd fellowship ! H. IV. pt. i. i.3. 
By Jove, I am not covetous of gold, 
Nor care I, who d(^th feed upon my cost ; 
It yearns me not if men my garments wear ; 
vSiich outward things dwell not in my desires ; 
But, if it be a sin to covet honour, 

I am the most offending soul alive. II.V. iv. 3. 

Life every man holds dear ; but the dear man - 
Holds honour far more precious-dear than life. T. C. v. 3. 

For life, I prlz(^ it, 
As I weigh grief, which I would spare : for honour, 


HON |!jiikrS|iEiiriiiii S)utinEEti|;. hon 

^Tis a (leriyative from me to mine, 

xincl only that I stand for. W. T. iii. 2 

1 ho king has cur'd me, 
I humbly thank his grace : a,nd from these shouhiers, 
Those ruin'i! pillars, out of pity, taken 
A load would sink a navy, — too much honour. 

IL rilL iii. 2 
He sits 'mongst men, like a descended god 
lie hath a kind of honour sets him off, 

More than a mortal seeming. Ci/m. i. T, 

Your presence glads our days ; honour we love, 
For who hates honour, hates the gods above. P. P. ii. 3. 

For men, like butterflies, 
Show not their mealy wings but to the summer; 
And not a man, for being simply man, 
Ilath any honour ; but honour for those honours 
That are Avithout him ; as place, riches, favour, 
Pi-i-zes of accident as oft as merit : 
Which, when they fall, as being slippery standers, 
The love tliat lean'd on them as slippery too, 
Do one pluck down another, and together 
Die in the fall. T.C. iii. 3. 

Thou art a fellow of a good respect ; 

Thy life hath had some smatch of honour in it. J.C. v. 5. 
A scar nobly got, 

(Jr a noble sear, is a good livery of honour. A.W. iv. 5. 
From lowest place when virtuous things proceed, 
The place is dignified by the doer's deed : 
Where great additions swell, and virtue none, 
It is a dropsied honour: good alone 
Is good, without a name : vilenoss is so ; 
The property by what it is should go, 

Not by the title. A,W. ii. 3. 

For nought I did in hate, but all in honour. 0. v. 2. 

Let none presume 
To wear an undeserved dignity. 
0, that estat(3S, degrees, and offices, ^ 

Were not derived corruptly ! and thfit clear honour 
Were purchased by the merit of the wearer ! 
How many then should cover that stand bare ! 
llow many be commanded that command I 
TIow much low peasantry wovdd then be gleaned 
From the true seed of honour I and how much honour 
Picked from the chaff and ruin of the times, 
To be new varnish'd ! M, V. ii. 9. 


HON |IiiikEB|iMriiiD Birtiniurtf- iion 

HONOUR,— confiVmetZ. 

By deed-achieving honour newly nam^d. C. ii. 1. 

If it be honour, in your wars, to seem 
The same you are not, (which for your best ends, 
You adopt your policy,) how is it less, or worse, 
That it shall hold companionship in peace 
With honour, as in war ; since that to both 
It stands in like request ? C. iii. 2. 

Who does i^ the wars more than his captain can, 
Becomes his captain's captain : and ambition. 
The soldier's virtue, rather makes choice of loss. 
Than gain, which darkens him. ^.Ciii. 1. 

Meddle you must, that's certain ; or forswear to wear iron 
about you. T. N. iii. 4. 

New honours come upon him 
Like our strange garments ; cleave not to their mould, 
But with the aid of time. M. i. 3. 

You stand upon your honour ! — Why, thou unconlinable 
baseness, it is as much as I can do to keep the terms of 
mine honour precise. I, I, I myself sometimes, leaving the 
fear of heaven on the left hand, and hiding mine honour in 
my necessity, am foin to shuffle, to hedge, and to lurch ; 
and yet you, rogue, will ensconce your rags, your cat-a- 
mountain looks, your red-lattice phrases, and your bokl- 
beating oaths under the shelter of your honour? M. W. ii. 2. 

I have heard you say. 
Honour and policy, like unsever'd friends, 
I' the war do grow together : Grant that, and tell me. 
In peace, what each of them by the other lose, 
That they combine not there. C. iii. 2. 

You come 
Not to woo honour, but to wed it. A. W. ii. 1. 

Signs of nobleness, like stars, shall shine 

On all deservers. M. i. 4. 

Give me life ; which, if I can save, so ; if not, honour 
comes unlook'd for, and there's an end. H.IV, pt. i. v. 3. 

Well, 'tis no matter ; Honour pricks me on. Yea, but 
how if honour prick me off when 1 come on ; how then ? 
Can honour set to a leg ? — No. Or an arm? — No. Or take 
away the grief of a wound ? — No. Honour hath no skill 
in surgery then ? — No. What is honour ? — A word. What 
is that word? — Honour. What is that honour? — Air. A 
trim reckoning ! Who hath it ? — He that died o' Wednes- 
day. Doth he feel it ?— No. Doth he hear it ?— No. Is it 
insensible then ? — Yea, to the dead. But will it not live 


HON IjinItBHiiinriiiii Birtinmtttf. hop 

HONOUR, — continued. 

with the living ? — No. Why ? — Detraction will not suffer 
it : — therefore I'll none of it. Honour is a mere scutcheon, 
and so ends my catechism. H, IV, pt. i. v. 1. 

HONOURS, Worldly, Uncertainty of. 

The painefull warrior famosed for worth, 

After a thousand victories once foiPd, 
Is from the booke of honour razed quite, 

And all the rest forgot for which he toiFd. Poems, 


The ample proposition that hope makes 

In all designs be;i;un on earth below, 

Fails in the promised largeness : checks and disasters 

Grow in the veins of actions, highest rear'd; 

As knots by the confltix of meeting sap, 

Infect the sound pine and divert his grain, 

Tortive and errant from his course of growth. T. 0. i. 3. 

A cause on foot 
Lives so in hope, as in an early spring 
AVe see the appearing buds ; which, to prove fruit, 
Hope gives not so much warrant, as despair, 
That frosts will bite them. H, IV. pt. ii. i. 3. 

Like one that stands upon a promontory, 
And spies a far-off shore where he would tread, 
Wishing his foot were equal with his eye ; 
And chides the sea that sunders him from thence, 
kSaying, — he'll lade it dry to have his way. 

li VL pt. III. iii. 2. 
True hope is SAvift, and flies with swallows' wings, 
Kings it makes gods, and meaner creatures kings. 

E. III. V. 2. 
The miserable have no other medicine, 

But only hope. M. M. iii. 1. • 

Hope is a lover's staff; walk hence with that, 
And manage it against despairing thoughts. T. G. iii. 1. 
There is a credence in thy heart, 
An esperance so obstinately strong, 
That doth invert the attest of eyes and ears; 
As if tliose organs had deceptions functions. 
Created only to calumniate. T.C. v. 2. 

It never yet did hurt, 
To lay down likelihoods, and forms of hope. 

KIV PT.n. i.3. 
In that hope, I throw mine eyes to heaven, 
Scorning whate'er you can afflict me with. H. VL in. i. 4 


HOP Itfakoiitariiin Birtiiiiiiini. iior 

no PE, — con iinued. 

I spy life peering ; but I dare not say 

HoAY near the tidings of our comfort is. B. 11. ii. 1. 

0, out of that no hope, 
"What great hope have you ! no hope, that way, is 
Another way so high an hope, that even 
Ambition cannot pierce a wink beyond. T. ii. 1. 

Do not satisfy your resolution with hopes that are fallible 

M. 31. iii. 1. 
I have lost my hopes, 

Perliaps even there, where I did find my doubts. M. iv. 3. 
And he that will not fight for such a hope, 
Go home- to bed, and, like the owl by day, 
If he arise, be mock'd and wonder'd at. H. VI. ft. hi. v. 4. 
What ! we have many goodly days to see ; 
The liquid drops of tears that you have shed, 
Shall come again, transformed to orient pearl ; 
Advantaging their loan, with int(.'rest 

Of ten-times-double gain of happiness. B. III. iv. 4. 

Hope is a curtail dog in some affairs. M. TV. ii. 1 - 

I will despair, and 1je at enmity 
With cozening hope ; ho is a flatterer, 
A parasite, a keeper-back of death, 
Who gently would dissolve the bands of life, 
Which false hope lingers in extremity. E. II. ii. 2. 

HOPELESSNESS (See also Despoxdency). 

Had I but died an hour before tliis chance, 

I had livM a blessed time ; for, from this instant, 

There's nothing serious in mortality : 

All is l)ut toys : rono^vn, and grace, are dead; 

The wine of life is di-awn, and the mere lees 

Is left this vault to brag of. M. ii. 3. 


Why, horns ; which such as you are fain to be beholden 
to your wives for. A.Y. iv. 1. 

Horns ! even so : — Poor men alone ? — No, no ; the noblest 
deer hath them as huge as the rascal. A. Y. iii. 3, 


But that I am forbid 
To tell the secrets of my prison-house, 
I could a tale unfold, whose lightest word 
Would harroAv up tliy soul ; freeze thy young blood ; 
Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres ; 
Thy knf»tted and combined locks to part, 


iioE IIjalvrHprariiiii JlirtinHKnf/ huk 


And each particular hair to stand on end, 

Like quills upon tae fretful porcupine. JT. i. 5 


Often to our comfort shall we find 
The sharded beetle in a safer hold 

Than is the full-wing'd eagle. Ci/jji, iii. 3. 

I have sounded the very base string of humility. 

E. IF, PT. I. ii. 4. 
I heard him swear, 
Were he to stand for consul, never would he 
Appear i^ the market-place, nor on him put 
The napless vesture of humility. C. ii. 1. 

Wilt thou, pupil-like, 
Take thy correction mildly, kiss the rod, 
And fawn on rage with base humility ? E. II. v. 1. 

happy 'vantage of a kneeling knee. E. II. v. 3. 


" The humour of it," quoth 'a ! here's a fellow frights 
humour out of its wits. M. W. ii. I. 

I'll tell thee what, prince ; a college of wit-crackers can- 
not flout me out of my humour. M. A. v. 4. 

I am now of all humours, that have showed themselves 
humours, since the old days of goodman Adam, to the 
pupil age of this present twelve o'clock at midnight. 

H. IV. PT. I. ii. 4. 


Say, thou wilt course ; thy greyhounds are as swift 

As breathed stags, ay, fleeter than the roe. T. S. Ind. 2. 

Come, shall we go and kill us venison ? 

And yet it irks me, the poor dappled fools, 

Being native burghers of this desert city. 

Should, in their own confines, with forked heads 

Have their round haunches gor'd. A.Y. ii. 1 

My hounds are bred out of the Spartan kind. 

So flew'd, so sanded ; and their heads are hung 

AVith ears that sweep away the morning dew ; 

Crook-knee'd, and dew-lapp'd like Thessalian bulls ; 

Slow in pursuit, but match'd in mouth like bells, 

E;ich under each. A cry more tuneable 

V\^as never hollaed to, nor cheer'd with horn. M. K, iv. 1 

Uncouple in the western valley ; go : 
Despatch, I say, and find the forester. — 

iiDN lljnkrHpBnrinii Sirtiniinni. hyp 


We will, fair queen, up to the mountain's top, 

And mark the musical coiirusion 

Of hounds and echo in conjunction. 31. JV. iv. 1. 

I was with Hercules, a'nd Cadmus, once. 

When in a wood of Crete they baj'd the bear 

With hounds of Sparta: novei" did I hear 

Such gallant chidin;;' ; for, besides the groves, 

The skies, the fountains, every region near 

Secm'd ail one mutual cry "• 1 never heard 

So musical a discord, such svfeet thunder. M. N. iv. 1. 


Sun-burnt sicklemen. T. iv. 1. 


YPOCRISY (See also DissimuLxVtion, Quoting Scripture). 
Now step I forth to whip hypocrisy. L. L. iv. 3. 

A huge translation of hypocrisy. L. L. v. 2. 

Ah, that deceit should steal such gentle shapes, 
And with a virtuous visor hide deep vice ! R. III. ii. 2. 

A knave very voluble ; no further conscionable, than in 
putting on the mere form of civil and humane seeming. 

O. ii. 1. 
Knavery cannot, sure, hide itself in such reverence. 

M. uL ii. 3. 
Buckingham, beAvare of yonder dog ; 
Look, when he fawns, he bites ; and, when ho bites, 
His venom to«>th will rankle to the death; 
JIave not to do with him, beware of him ; 
Sin, death, and hell liave set their marlis on him ; 
And ail their ministers attend on him. M. ITT. i. 3. 

Show men dutiful ? 
Why, so didst thou: or seem they grave and lenrned? 
Why, so didst thou: come tliey of noble fiimily ? 
Why, so didst thou: seem they religious? 
Why, so didst thou : or are they spare in diet, 
Free from gross passion, or of mirth, or anger ; 
Constant in spirit, not swerving with tlie blood; 
Garnish'd and deck'd in modest conipliment; 
Xot working with the eye, without the ear, 
And, but in purged judgment, trusting neither? 
Such, and so finely ])olted, didst thou seem. H.V. ii. 2, 

Seems he a dove? his feathers are but borrowed, 
For he's disposed as the hateful raven. 
Is he a lamb ? his skin is surely lent him, 
For he's indin'd as are the ravenous wolves. 
Who carmot steal a shape, that means deceit? 

169 15 

ir:p |liiiltr0|itiiriiiii Dirtinimrq. hyp 


Take heed my lord ; the Tvelfare of us all 
Hangs on the cutting short that fraudful man. 

11. VL PT. II. iii. 1. 
Tut, I can counterfeit the deep tragedian ; 
Speak, and look back, and pry on every side, 
Tremble and start at wagging of a straw, 
Intending deep suspicion : ghastly looks 
Are at my service, like enforced smiles ; 
And both are ready in their oliices, 
At any time, to grace my stratagems. B. III. iii. 5. 

Be not you spoke with, but by mighty suit : 
And look you get a prayer-book in your hand, 
And stand between two churchmen, good my lord ; 
For on that ground Til make a holy descant : 
And be not easily won to our requests ; 
Play the maid^s part, still answer nay, and take it. 

. -R. IZJ. iii. 7. 

There is no vice so simple, but assumes 

Some mark of virtue on his outward parts. if. V. iii. 2. 

This outward-sainted deputy, — 
Whose settled visage and deliberate word 
Nips youth i' the head, and follies doth enmew, 
As falcon doth the fowl, — is yet a devil. M. M. iii. 1. 

Gloster's show 
Beguiles him, as the mournful crocodile 
With sorroAV snares relenting passengers ; 
Or as the snake, roll'd in a flowering bank, 
With shining checker'd slough, doth sting a child. 
That, for the beauty, thinks it excellent. 

H. VL PT. II. iii. 1. 
Smooth runs the water, where the brook is deep ; 
And in his simple show he harbours treason. 
Tiie fox barks not, Avhen he would steal the lamb. 
No, no, my sovereign ; Gloster is a man 
Unsounded yet, and full of deep deceit. 

H. VL PT. II. iii. 1. 

So smooth he daubM his vice with show of virtue. 

That, — his apparent open guilt omitted — 

He liv'd from all attainder of suspect. R. Ill, iii. 5, 

Ah, that deceit should steal such gentle shapes. 

And with a virtuous visor hide deep vice ! R. III. ii. 2. 

0, what authority and show of truth 

Can cunning sin cover itself withal ! M. A. iv. 1. 

HIT lljnItEsiitiiriiin Sittinimnf. jea 

llYVOOm^Y, ^continued. 

And thus I clothe my naked villainy 

With old odd ends, stoFn forth of holy writ ; 

And seem a saint when most I play the devil. R. Ill, i. 3. 

The secret mischief that I set abroach, 

I lay unto the grievous charge of others. i?. III. i. 3. 

I do the wrong, and first begin to brawl. E. III. i. 3. 

Your great goodness, out of holy pity, 
Absolved him with an axe. H, VIII. iii. 2 

i& 1. 

JACKS IN Office. 

The little dogs and all, 
Tray, Blanch, and Sweetheart, see, they bark at me. 

K. L. iii. 6. 


They have been at a great feast of languages, and stolen 
the scraps. L, L. v. 1. 


'Tis mad idolatry, 
That makes the service greater than the god. T. C. ii. 2. 
This is the liver vein, which makes flesh a deity ; 
A green goose, a goddess : pure, pure idolatry. L, L. iv. 5. 


IIow many fond fools serve mad jealousy ! C. E. ii. 1. 

Trifles, light as air, 
Are, to the jealous, confirmations strong 
As proofs of holy writ. 0. iii. 3. 

Good, my lord, be cur'd 
Of this diseasM opinion, and betimes ; 
For ^tis most dangerous. W. T, i. 2. 

Look where he comes ! Not poppy, nor mandragora, 

Nor all the drowsy syrups of the world. 

Shall ever medicine thee to that sweet sleep 

Which thou ow^i'st yesterday. 0. iii. 3. 

IIow blest am I 
In my just censure, in my true opinion ! 
Alack, for lesser knowledge ! IIow accurs'd, 
In being so blessM 1 — There may be in the cup 
A spider steep'd, and one may drink ; depart. 
And yet partake no venom ; for his knowledge 
Is POt infected : but if one present 


JEA ^^IjiikfHpiirinii I)irtiniiErt|. jea 

JEALOJJSY,— continued. 

The abhorr'd ingredient to his eye, make known 
ITow he hath drunk, he cracks his gorge, his sides, 
With violent hefts : — I have drank, and seen the spider. 

W.T. ii. 1. 
Of one, that lov'd not wisely, but too well ; 
Of one, noT, easily jealous, but being wrought, 
Perplex'd in the extreme. 0. v. 2. 

That same knave, Ford, her husband, hath the finest mad 
devil of jealousy in him, master Brook, that ever governed 
frenzy. M. W. v. 1. 

Poor, and content, is rich, and rich enough ; 
But riches, fineless, is as poor as winter, 
To him that ever fears he shall be poor. 0, iii. 3. 

beware, my lord, of jealousy ; 

It is the green-eyed monster, which doth mock 
The meat it feeds on : That cuckold lives in bliss, 
Who, certain of his fate, loves not his wronger; 
But, 0, what damned minutes tqlls he o'er. 
Who dotes, yet doubts ; suspects, yet strongly loves ! 

0. iii. 3. 
These are the forgeries of jealousy : 
And never, since the middle summer's spring, 
Met we on hill, in dale, forest, or mead. 
By paved fountain, or by rushy brook. 
Or on the beached margent of the sea, 
To dance our ringlets to the whistling wind, 
But with thy brawls thou hast disturb'd our sport. 

M. N. ii. 2. 
Self-harming jealousy. C, E. ii. 1. 

The venom clamours of a jealous woman 

Poison more deadly than a mad dog's tooth. (7. E. v. 1 

The shrug, the hum, or ha ; these pretty brands, 

That calumny doth use : — 0, I am out. 

That mercy does ; for calumny will seer 

A'irtue itself; — these shrugs, thes^ hums, and has, 

When you have said, she's goodly, come between, 

Ere you can say she's honest. W.T. ii. 1. 

The forgeries of jealousy. M. N. ii. 2. 

llow novelty may move, and parts with person, 

Alas, a kind of godly jealousy 

(Which, I beseech you, call a virtuous sin) 

Makes me afeard. " T.C. iv. 4, 

1 will possess him with yellowness. M. W. i. 3. 

jEA lljEktsjinuiiiH lliriinEiiii|. jea 

JE ALOU ^Y,— continued, 

Think'st thou I'd make a lifo of j. alousj, 

To follow still the chanp!;es of th;' moon 

With fresh suspicions ? No : to he once in doubt, 

Is — once to be resolved. 0. iii. 3. 

Is whispering nothing ? 
Is leaning cheek to chc'jk? is meeting noses? 
Kissing with inside lip? stopping the career 
Of laughter with a sigh ? (a note iiiiallible 
Of breaking honesty :) horsing {'not (,n foot? 
Skulking in corners? wishing chH-iis more swift? 
Hours, minutes? noon, midnight? and all eyes blind 
With the pin and we]), but tlicirs, theirs only, 
That would unseen b*} wicked ? — is this nothing 
Why, then, the world, and all lli:it\^ in't, is nothing; 
The covering sky is nothing ; i>')hi'mia nothing ; 
My wife is nothing ; nor nothirig have these nothings, 
If this be nothing. W.T. i. 2. 

But to be paddling palms, and pinching fingers. 
As now they are ; and making pr:ictis\i snuies, 
As in a looking-glass; — and then to si,id>, as Hwere 
'J'he mort o' the deer; 0, that is enteruainment 
My bosom likes not, nor my brows. W.T. i. 2, 

What sense had I of her stolon hou^-s of lust ? 
I saw it not, thought it not, it h.arm'd not me ; 
I slept the next night well, was free and merry; 
I found not Cassio's kisses on her lips : 
Ho that is robb'd, not Avanting what is stoFn, 
Let him not know it, and he's not ro])])'a at all. 0. iii. Z 
Avaunt ! begone ! thou hast set me on the rack : — 
I swear ^tis better to be much abused, 

Than but to know't a little. 0. iii. 3. 

ITl see, before I doubt ; when I doul)t, prove ; 
And, on the proof, there is no more hut tliis, — 
Away at once with love and jealousy. 0. iii. 3. 

All m}^ fond love thus do I bhjw to iicnven : 
Arise, black vengeance, from thy hoUovv cell! 

, Yield up, love, thy crown, aiul hc;ir'ed tlnone, 

To tyrannous hate ! svv'oll, bosom, with thy fraught, 
For Tiy of aspicks' tongues. O. iii. 3, 

^Nlake me to see it ; or (at the least) so prove it, 
That the probation bear no hinge, nor L^op, 
To hang a douljt on ; or, woe upon thy life. 0. iii. 3. 

If thou doirt slander her and torture me. 
Never pray more ; a));indon all remorse: 
On horror's head, horrors accumulate : 

i:a 1 5* 

JEA llfnkrHpriiriiiii I)irtinii{in[. jes 

.TEA LOUSY,— continned. 

Do deeds to make heaven weep, all earth amaz'd, 

For nothing canst thou to damnation add, 

Greater than that. 0. iii. 3. 

Villain, be sure thou prove my vrife a whore ; 

Be sure of it; give me the ocular proof; 

Or, by the worth of mine eternal soul, 

Thou hadst been better have been born a dog, 

Than answer my wak'd wrath. 0. iii. 3. 

Have you not seen, Camillo, 

(But that's past doubt : you have ; or your eye-glass 

Is thicker than a cuckold's horn) ; or heard, 

(For, to a vision so apparent, rumour 

(Jannot be mute) ; or thought, (for cogitation 

K«sides not in that man, that does not think it) 

My wife is slippery ? If thou wilt confess, 

(Or else be impudently negative. 

To have nor eyes, nor ears, nor thought), then say. 

My wife's a hobby-horse ; deserves a name 

As rank as any flax-wench, that puts to 

liofore her troth-plight: say it, and justify it. W.T. i. 2. 

My wife hath sent to him, the hour is fixed, the match is 
made. Would any man have thought this ? — See the hell 
of having a false woman ! M. W. ii. 2. 

Page is an ass, a secure ass : he will trust his wife. He 
will not be jealous ; I will rather trust a Fleming with my 
l)utter, parson Hugh the Welshman with my cheese, an 
. Irishman with my aqua-vito3 bottle, or a thief to walk my 
ambling gelding, than my wife with herself. — Heaven be 
praised for my jealousy ! M, W. ii. 2. 

By gar, His no de fashion of France ; it is not jealous in 
France. ilf. W, iii. 3. 


0, it is much, that a lie, with a slight oath, and a jest, 
with a sad brow, will do with a fellow that never had tlie 
acho in his shoulders. H. IV. ft. ii. v. 1. 

A jest's prosperity lies in the ear 
Of him that hears it, never in the tongue 
Of him that makes it. L. L. v. 2. 

I will bite thee by the ear for that jest. B, J. ii. 4, 

That very oft, 
When I am dull with care and melancholy, 
Lightens my humour with his merry jests. C E. i. 2. 

lleply not to me with a fool-born jest. H, IV. pt. it. v. 5, 
To see now, how a jest shall come about ! B. J. i. 3, 


K. L. V. 


L. X. V. 




11. J, ii. 


jEs i^lmltHprirriiitr Dittinnar^. ill 

^^^T,- —continued. 

Jesters do oft prove prophets. 
Jest a twelvemonth in an hospital. 


His jest will savour but of shallow wit, 

AYhen thousands weep more than did laugh at it. 

He jests at scars that never had a wound. . 


Can the world buy such a jewel? M, A, i. 1. 


Talk^st thou to me of ifs. R. Ill iii. 4. 

— THE Virtues of an. 

, All these you may avoid but the lie direct ; and you may 
avoid that too, with an ^/! I knew when seven justices 
could not make up a quarrel ; but when the parties were 
met themselves, one of them thought but of an if; as, i/ 
you said so, then I said so ; and they shook hands, and 
swore brothers. Your if is the only peace-maker ; much 
virtue in if A. Y. v. 4. 


thou monster, ignorance, how deform'd dost thou look 

L. L. iv. 2. 
Ignorance is the curse of God. H. VL pt. ii. iv. 7. 

Dull, unfeeling, barren ignorance. II. II. i. 3. 

Short-armM ignorance. T. C. ii. 3. 


lie is deformed, crooked, old, and sere, 

Ill-faced, worse-bodied, shapeless every where; 

Alcious, un<rcntU-, foolish, blunt, unkind, 

8tigniatical in making, worse in mind. C, E, iv. 2. 


Sir, he hath never fed of the dainties that are bred in a 
book ; he hath not eat paper, as it were ; he hath not 
drunk ink : his intellect is not replenished ; he is only an 
animal ; only sensible in the duller parts, L.L. iv. 2, 

ILLUSION (See Delusion). 

Our revels now are ended : these our actors, 

As I foretold you, were all spirits, and 

Are molted into air, into thin air: 

And like the baseless fabric of their vision, 

The cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces, 

The solemn temples, the great globe itself, 

Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve ; 


ILL |lfiiI{B3|i!ttriiin Sitiiniiiin[. ima 

ILLUSlOlsl,— continued. 

And like this insubstantial pageant faded, 

Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff 

As dreams are made of, and our little life 

Is rounded with a sleep. T, iv. L 


Such tricks hath strong imagination ; 

That if it would but apprehend some joy, 

It comprehends some bringer of that joy; 

Or, in the night imagining some fear, 

IIow easy is a bush supposed a bear ! if. AT. v. 1. 

Conceit, more rich in matter than in words, 

Brags of his substance, not of ornament : 

They are but beggars that can count their worth. 


Lovers and madmen have such seething brains, 
Such shaping fantasies, that apprehend 
More than cool reason ever comprehends. 
The lunatic, the lover, and the poet, 
Are of imagination all compact: 
One sees more devils than vast hell can hold ; 
That is, the madman : the lover, all as frantic, 
Sees Helen's beauty in a brow of Egypt : 
The poet's eye, in a fine frenzy rolling. 
Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven ; 
And, as imagination bodies forth 
The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen 
Turns them to shapes, and gives to airy nothing 
A local habitation and a name. M. N. v. L 

0, who can hold a fire in his hand. 

By thinking on the frost}^ Caucasus? 

Or cloy the hungry edge of appetite, 

By bare imagination of a feast ? 

Or wallow naked in December's snow, 

By thinking on fantastic summer's heat 

0, no ! the apprehension of the good, 

(lives but the greater feeling to the worse : 

Fell sorrow's tooth doth never rankle more, 

Than when it bites, but lanceth not the sore. it. 11. i. 3 

Dangerous conceits, are, in their natures, poisons, 

Which, at the first, are scarce found to distaste ; 

But, with a little act upon the blood, 

Burn like the mines of sulphur. 0. iii. 3. 

He waxes desperate with imagination. IL i. 4, 


IMA IjnrktspBEtiati SirtiHinirtf. imp 

IMAGINARY Eyils Cause Keal Cares. 

The passions of the mind, 
That have their first conception by mis-dread, 
Have after-nourishment and life by care ; 
And what was first but fear what might be done, 
Grows elder now, and cares it be not done. P.P. i. 2. 


Chaste and immaculate in very thought. H. VI. pt. i. y. 4. 


cruel, irreligious pisty I Tit. And. i. 2. 

IMMORAL Reading. 

Lascivious metres, to whose venom sound 
' The open ear of youth doth always listen. P. 11. ii. L 

IMPATIENCE Suppressed. 

Bondage is hoarse, and may not speak aloud ; 

Else would I tear the cave where Echo lies, 

And make her airy tongue more hoarse than mine 

AVith repetition of my Romeo's name. R. J. ii. 2. 


The ocean, overpeering of his list. 

Eats not the flats with more impetuous haste. H. iv. 5. 

Let me go, Sir, 
Or ril knock you o'er the mazzard. 0. ii. 3. 

IMPLACABILITY (See Inflexibility). 


Neglecting an attempt of ease and gain, 

To wake, and wage, a danger profitless. O. i. 3. 


Then let the pebbles on the hungry beach 

Fillip the stars ; then let the mutinous winds 

Strike the proud cedars 'gainst the fiery sun; 

Murd'ring impossibility, to make 

What cannot be, slight work. V. v. 3. 


By my Christendom, 
So I were out of prison, and kept sheep, 

1 should be merry as the day is long. K. J. iy. L 


'Tis not unknown to you, Antonio, 

How much I have disabled mine estate, 

By something showing a more swelling port 

Than my faint means would grant continuance. M.V. i. 1. 


IMP |Iiiikt3|iiiiriiiii Birtiniiiirtf-. inc 


Wbatl canst thou say all this, and never blush? 

Tit, And, v. 1. 


To vouch this, is no proof; 

Without more certain and more overt test, 

Than these thin habits and poor likelihoods 

Of modern seeming do prefer against him. 0. i. 3. 


To business that we love, vre rise betimes, 

And go to it with delight. A, C, iv. 4. 


heaven ! were man 
But constant, ne were perfect; that one error 
Fills him with faults. T. G, v 4. 


Such an act. 
That blurs the grace and blush of modesty : 
Calls virtue hypocrite : takes off the rose 
From the fair forehead of an innocent love. 
And sets a blister there : makes marriage vows 
As false as dicers' oaths ; 0, such a deed, 
As from the body of contraction plucks 
The very soul ; and sweet religion makes 
A rhapsody of words. II. iii. 4. 

0, she is fallen 
Into a pit of ink? that the wide sea 
Hath drops too few to wash her clean again ; 
And salt too little, which may season give 
To her foul tainted flesh. if. A. iv. 1. 

Had it pleasM heaven 
To try me with affliction ; had he rain'd 
All kinds of sores, and shames, on my bare head ; 
Stcep'd me in povei-ty to the very lips ; 
Given to captivity me and my utmost hopes ; 
I should have found in some part of my soul 
A drop of patience: but (alas!) to make me 
A fixed figure, for the type of scorn 
To point his low unmoving finger at, 

0! 0! O. iv. 2. 

1 should make very forges of my cheoks. 
That would to cinders burn up modesty, 
Did I but speak thy deeds. 0, iv. 2, 

Look to her. Moor ; have a quick eye to see ; 
She has deceived her father, and may thee. 0. i. 3. 


INC lijakispiariiiH DirtioHiini. inf 

mCO^Tm^NGE,— continued. 

thou weed, 
Who art so lovely fair, and smelFst so sweet, 
• That the sense aches at thee, — would, thou hadst ne^er been 
born. 0. iv. 2. 

shame ! where is thy blush ? Rebellious hell, 
If thou canst mutine in a matron^s bones 

To flaming youth let virtue be as wax. 

And melt in her own fire : proclaim no shame, 

When the compulsive ardour gives the charge ; 

Since frost itself as actively doth burn, 

And reason panders will. II. iii. 4. 

If I do prove her haggard, 
Though that her jesses were my dear heart strings, 
I'd whistle her off, and let her down the wind, 
To prey at fortune. 0. iii. 3 


Double and treble admonition, and still forfeit in the 
same kind. This would make mercy swear ' and play the 
tyrant. M, M. iii. 2. 


, I cannot tell, what you and other men 
Think of this life ; but, for my single self, 

1 had as lief not be, as live to be 

In awe of such a thing as I myself. J. C. i. 2 


His indignation derives itself out of a very competent 
injury. T, N liiA. 


Wine lov'd I deeply ; dice dearly ; and in woman, out- 
paramour'd the Turk. False of heart, light of ear, bloody 
of hand ; hog in sloth, fox in stealth, wolf in greediness, 
dog in madness, lion in prey. K, L. iii. 4. 

INFANT Ruler. 

Woe to that land that's governed by a child ! B. III. ii. 3. 


When we in. our viciousness grow hard, 
(0, misery on^t !) the wise gods seel our eyes ; 
In our own filth drop our clear judgments ; make ua 
Adore our errors ; laugh at us, while we strut 
To our confusion. ^.{7. iii. H, 

Thus hath the candle sing'd the moth. M. V. ii. 9. 

It was young Hotspur's case at Shrewsbury. 
* * * * Who lin'd himself with hope, 


INF IjialtrHjiriiriiiii Iiirtiniinrif. inf 

mYATlJATlOl^ —couHrwed. 

Eating the air on proriiiso of supply, 

Flattering himself AS'ith project of a power 

Much smaller than the smallest of his thoughts 

And so, with great imagination, 

Proper to madmen, led his powers to death, 

And, winking, leap'd into destruction. H. IV. pt. ii. i. 3, 


And one infect another 
Against the wind a mile. C. i. 4. 


Infirmity doth still neglect all office, 

Whereto our health is bound ; we are not ourselves, 

When nature, being oppressed, commands the mind 

To suffer with the body. K. L, ii. 4. 

.. Greatne's not exempt from. 

He had a fever when he was in Spain, 

And, wh^n the fit was on him, I did mdrk 

How he did shake : ^tis true, this god did shake : 

His coward lips did from their colours fly ; 

And that same eye, whose bend doth awe the world, 

Did lose its lustre. J.C, i. 3. 

INFLEXIBILITY. ( See also Bond) . 

You may as well go stand upon the beech, 

And bid the main flood bate his usual height ; 

Y'ou may as 'well use question with the wolf, 

Why he hath made the ewe bleat for the lamb ; 

Y'ou may as Avell forbid the mountain pines 

To wag their high tops and to make no noise, 

When they are fretted with the gusts of heaven 

You may as well do any thing most hard, 

As seek to soften that — (than which what's harder?) 

His Jewish heart ! M. V. iv. 1. 

Swear his thought over 
By each particular star in heaven, and 
By all their influences, 3^ou may as well 
Forbid the sea for to obey the moon. 
As or, by oath, remove, or counsel, shake, 
The fabric of his folly ; whose foundation 
Is pird upon his faith, and will continue 
The standing of his body. W.T, i. 2. 

ril have my bond ; I will not hear thee speak : 

riL have my bond : and therefore speak no more. M. V, iii. 3. 

There's no more mercy in him than there is milk in a 
male tiger. C. v. 4. 


INF lljnkBHirtiirinii l)irtiniiiiri[. ing 


So our leader's led, 
And we are women's men. A.C. iii. 7. 


Monster ingratitude ! K. L. i. 5 

The ingratitude of this Seleucus does 

Even make me wild. A, C. v. 2, 

Must I be unfolded 
With one that I have bred? The gods ! — It smites me 
Beneath the Ml I have. A. C. v. 2. 

Blow, blow, thou winter wind, 
Thou art not so unkind ' 

xis man's ingratitude ; 
Thy tooth is not so keen. 
Because thou art not seen 

Although thy breath be rude. 
Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky, 
That dost not bite so nigh. 

As benefits forgot ; 
Though thou the waters warp, 
Thy sting is not so sharp 

As friend remember'd not. A.Y. ii.7. 
I hate ingratitude more in a man, 
Than lying, vainness, babbling, drunkenness. 
Or any taint of vice, whose strong corruption 
Inhabits our frail blood. T. N. iii. 4. 

I have kept back their foes 
While they have told their money ; and let out 
Their coin upon large interest ; I myself, 
Rich only in large hurts, — All those for this? 
Is this the balsam, that the usuring senate 
Pours into captains' wounds ? T. A, iii. 5 

Pr'ythee load me in : 
There take an inventory of all I have. 
To the last penny ; ^tis the king's : my robe, 
And my integrity to heaven, is all 
I dare now call my own. Cromwell, Cromwell,. 
Had I but serv'd my God Avith half the zeal 
I serv'd my king, he would not in mine age 
Have left me naked to mine enemies. . H. VUL iii. 2. 

I had my trial ; 
And, must needs say, a noble one ; which makes me 
A little happier than my wretched father : 
Yet thus far we are one in fortunes, — Both 
Fell by our servants, by those men we lov'd most ; • 
A most unnatural and faithless service I 

ISl 16 

iNG lljakEspBarian Birtiniianf* ing 

INGRATITUDE, —continued. 

Heaven has an end in all ; yet, you that hear me, 

This from a dying man receive as certain : 

Where you are liberal of your loves, and counsels, 

Be sure you be not loose ; for those you make friends 

And give your hearts to, when they once perceive 

The least rub in your fortunes, fall away 

Like water from ye, never found again 

But where they mean to sink ye. H.VIIL ii. 1. 

For Brutus, as you know, was Cgesar's angel ; 

tTudge, you gods, how dearly Csesar lovM him ! 

This was the most unkindest cut of all : 

For when the noble C^sar saw him stab, 

Ingratitude, more strong than traitors' arms. 

Quite vanquished him : then burst his mighty heart ; 

And, in his mantle muffling up his face, 

Even at the base of Pom pay's statue, 

Which all the while ran blood, great Csesar fell. J.C. iii. 2, 

Time hath, my lord, a wallet at his back, 

AVherein he puts alms for oblivion, 

A great-siz'd monster of ingratitudes : 

Those scraps are good deeds past ; which are devour'd 

As fast as they are made, forgot as soon 

As done. •- ^.(7. iii. 3. 

Ingratitude is monstrous : and for the multitude to be in- 
grateful, were to make a monster of the multitude. 

a ii. 3. 
I am rapt, and cannot cover 

The monstrous bulk of this ingratitude 

With any size of words. T. A. v. 1. 

Being fed by us, you us'd us so, 

As that ungentle gull, the cuckoo's bird, 

Useth the sparrow : did oppress our nest ; 

Grew by our feeding to so great a bulk, 

That even our love durst not come near your sight, 

For i^ar of swallowing. H. IV. rx. i. v. 1. 

..^..^ Filial (See also Children). 

Is it not as this mouth shpuld tear this hand, 

For lifting food to't ? ' K. L. iii. 4. 

Ingratitude ! thou marble-hearted fiend; 

More hideous when thou show'st thee in a child. 

Than the sea monster. K. L, i. 4, 

Beloved Regan, 

Thy sister's naught : Regan, she hath tied 

Sharp-tooth'd unkindness, like a vulture here ; 

1 can scarce speak to thee. K. L. ii. 4, 

ixH IjjultfHiiBiiriaii I)irtinEatt|. inn 


I am sorry for thee ; thou art come to answer 
A stony adversary, an inhuman wretch 
Uncapable of pity, void and empty 

From any dram of mercy. M, V. iv. 1, 

0, be thou damn'd, inexorable dog ! 
And for thy life let justice be accurs'd. 
Thou almost mak'st me waver in my faith 
To hold opinion with Pythagoras, 
That souls of animals infuse themselves 
'Into the trunks of men. M. V. iv. 1. 


He hath wronged me ; indeed, he hath ; — at a word, he 
hath ; — believe me ; — Eobert Shallow, esquire, saith he is 
wrong'd. M. W. i. 1. 

I leave my duty a little unthought of, and speak out of 
my injury. • jP. iV. v. 1. 


What, will you make a younker of me ? shall I not take 
mine ease in mine inn, but I shall have my pocket picked. 

H. IV. PT. I. iii. 3, 


The trust I have is In mine innocence. H. IV, pt. ii. iv. 4, 
Unstained thoughts do seldom dream of evil. Poems, 

Pure innocence hath never practised how 
To cloak offences. Poems, 

I humbly thank your highness : 
And am right glad to catch this good occasion 
Most thoroughly to be winnow'd, where my chaff 
And corn shall fly asunder ; for, I know, 
There's none stands under more calumnious tongues 
Thau. I myself. H.VIIL v. 1. 

"We do not know 
IIow he may soften at the sight o' the child ; 
The silence often of pure innocence 

Persuades, when speaking fails. W.T. ii. 2. 

Did I not tell you she was innocent ? M, A. v. 4. 

I have mark'd 
A thousand blushing apparitions start 
Into her face ; a thousand innocent shames 
In angel whiteness bear away those blushes ; 
And in her eye there hath appeared a fire. 
To burn the errors that these princes hold 
Against her maiden trutli. M. A, iv. 1» 


INN lijaltMiiBiiriiiii fiirtinMrif. int 

INNOCENCE,— con^mwetZ. 

If powers divine 
Behold our human actions, (as they do) 
I doubt not then, but innocence shall make 
False accusation blush, and tyranny 
Tremble at patience. W.T. iii. 2. 


Some innocents 'scape not the thunderbolt. A,C, ii. 5. 


Thus we debase ^ 

The nature of our seats, and make the rabble 
Call our cares, fears ; which will in time break ope 
The locks o' 'th' senate, and bring in the crows 
To peck the eagles. C. iii. I. 


We are not ourselves, .when nature, being oppress'd, 
Commands the mind to suffer with the body. K, L. ii. 4 


We have scotched the snake, not kilPd it ; 

She'll close, and be herself; whilst our poor malice 

Remains in danger of her former tooth. M. iii. 2. 

I am Cabin'd, cribb'd, confined, bound in 
To saucy doubts and fears. 3/. iii. 4. 


Thou cried'st, Indeed? 
And didst contract and purse thy brow together, 
As if thou had'st then shut up in thy brain 
Some horrible conceit. 0. iii. 3. 


Ill deeds are doubled with an evil word. C. E. iii. 2. 

INSTRUMENT (See also Piping, Tool). 

How poor an instrument 
May do a noble deed! A.C. v. 2. 


But nothing alter'd : What I was, I am. W-T. iv. 3. 

There is a kind of character in thy life, 

That, to the observer, doth thy history 

Fully unfold: Thyself and thy belongings 

Are not thine own so proper, as to waste 

Thyself upon thy virtues, them on thee. M. M. i. 1. 


INT IIjnkBspiiriiiH Birtinnnnf. inv 


Boundless intemperance 
In nature is a tyranny ; it hath been 
Tiie untimeh^ emptying of the happy throne, 
And fall of many kings. M. iv. 3. 

INTENTIONS, Good, Defeated. 

We are not the first, ^ 

AYho, with best moaning, have incurred the worst 

a: l, v. 3. 


His act did not o'ertake his bad intent ; 

And must be buried but as an intent, 

That perish'd by the way : thoughts are no subjects ; 

Intents but merely thoughts. M. M, v. I. 

Between the acting of a dreadful thing 

And the first motion, all the interim is 

Like a phantasma, or a hideous dream: 

The genius, and the mortal instruments, 

Are then in council ; and the state of man, 

Like ta a little kinodom, suffers then 

The nature of an insurrection. J.C. ii. I. 


And, like the tyrannous breathing of the north, 

Shakes all our buds from growing. Cym. i. 4. 


What ! dares the slave 
Come hither, cover 'd with an antic flice, 
To fleer and scorn at our solemnity ? R. J. i. 5, 


There comes a power 
Into this scattered kingdom ; who already, 
Wise in our negligence, have secret feet 
In sf>me of our best ports, and are at point 
To show their open banner. K.L. iii. I. 

Shall we, upon the footing of our land, 
Send fair-play orders, and make compromise. 
Insinuation, parley, and base truce. 
To arms invasive ? shall a beardless boy, 
A cockerM silken wanton brave our fields, 
And flesh his spirit in a warlike soil, 
Mocking the air with colours idly spread. 
And find no check ? K.J. v, 1. 


If your love do not persuade you to come, let not my letter. 

Jf.F. iii.2. 

.85 16» 

iNv lljulvrHjiraririii Sirtinnnrti. irk 


My father's wit, and my mother's tongue, assist me ! 

L. L, i. 2. 


God, and his angels, guard jonv sacred throne, 

And make you \oi\^ become it ! II.V.\ 2. 


0, for a muse of fire, that would ascend 

The brightest heaven of invention ! H. V. i. chorus. 


St. George, — that swing'd the dragon, and e'er since, 

Sits on his horseback at mine hostess' door, 

Teach us some fence ! K. J. ii. 1. 


Take my cap, Jupiter, and I thank thee : — IIoo ! Marcius 
is coming home ! C. ii. 1 

Why, hark you ; 
The trumpets, sackbuts, psalteries, and fifes. 
Tabors, and cymbals, and the shouting Romans, 
Make the sun dance. (7. v. 4 

But that I see thee here. 
Thou noble thing ! more dances my rapt heart 
Than when I first my wedded mistress saw " 
Bestride my threshold. C. iv. 5, 

There appears much joy in him ; even so much that joy 
could not show itself modest enough, without a badge of 
bitterness. •^- * * A kind overflow of kindness : There are 
no faces truer than those that are so washed. How much 
better is it to weep at joy, than to joy at weeping ! 

M. A. i. 1 

IRRESOLUTION (See also Hesttatiox). 

Our doubts are traitors. 
And make us lose the good we oft might win. 
By fearing to attempt. M. M. i. 5, 

That we would do, 
We should do when we would ; for this would changes, 
And hath abatements and delays as many. 
As there are tongues, are hands, are accidents ; 
And then this should is like a spendthrift's sigh. 
That hurts by easing. H, iv. 7. 


Quaff"' d off" the muscadel, and threw the sops all in the 
gexton's face. " T. S. iii. 2. 


iKR |liaki3|iiEriii!i Dirtiimaq, jud 

IRRITABILITY (See also Quarrel). 

Come, coQio, thou art as hot a Jack in thy mood as any in 
Italy. i^.J. iii. 1. 

Being incensed, he's flint ; 
As humorous as winter, and as sudden 
As flaAYS congealed in the spring of day. 
His temper therefore must be well observed: 
Chide iiim for faults, and do it reverently, 
When 3^ou perceive his blood inclin'd to mirth ; 
But, being moody, give him line and scope, 
Till that his passions, like a whale on ground, 
Confound themselves with working. II, IV. pt. ii. iv. 4. 

A very little thief of occasion will rob you of a great deal 
of patience. (7. ii. I. 

JUDGES, Dilatory. 

You dismiss the controversy bleeding, the more entangled 
by your hearing. C. ii. 1. 

JUDGMENT, Justice. 

I stand for judgment: answer; shall I have it? M^V. iv. 1. 
Eorbear to judge, for we are sinners all. II. VI. ft. ii. iii. 3. 
A Daniel come to judgment! yea, a Daniel! M. V. iv. 1 
To oifend and judge, are distinct offices, 
And of opposed natures. M. V. ii. 9. 

O judgment, thou art fled to brutish beasts, 
And men have lost their reason. ^ J.C. iii. 2. 

The urging of that word judgment hath bred a kind of 
remorse in me. U. Ill i. 4. 

I charge you by the law, 
Whereof you are a well-deserving pillar, 
Proceed to judgment. M. V. iv. 4 

Under your good correction, I have seen, 
AVhen, after execution, judgment hath 
K<3pented o'er his doom. ][I, M, ii. 2. 

This shows you are al)Ove, 
You justicers, that those poor netlior crimes 
So speedily can venge ! X. L, iy. 2. 

0, I were damn'd b(\vond all depth in he^l, 
But that I did pi'oceed upon just grounds 
To this extremity. 0. v. 2. 

All friends shall taste 
The wages of their virtue, and all foes 

The cup of their deservings. K. L. v. 3. 

The gods are just, and of our pleasant vices 
Make instruments to scourge us. K. L. v. 3 


juD ||jElvr]j|irnririE Sirtinimrij, ken 

JUDGMENT, Justice,— continued. 

Thyself shalt see the act: 
For, as thou urgest justice, be assur'd, 
Thou shalt have justice, more thau thou desir'st. 

M. r, iv. 1. 

And where the offence is, let the great axe fall. H. iv. 5. 
llobes and furr'd gowns hide all. Plate sin with gold, 
And the strong lance of justice hurtless breaks : 
Arm it in rags, a pigmy's straw doth pierce it. K. L. iv. 6 

In the corrupted currents of this world, 

Offence's gilded hand may shoveby justice ; 

And oft ^tis seen, the wicked prize itself 

Buys out the law : But ^tis not so above : 

There is no shuffling, there the action lies 

In his true nature ; and we ourselves compell'd, 

Even to the teeth and forehead of our faults, 

To give in evidence. II. iii. 3. 

I do believe, 
Induc'd by potent circumstances, that 
You are mine enemy ; and make my challenge, 
You shall not be my judge. //. VIIL ii.4. 

If I shall be condemn'd 
Upon surmises ; all proofs sleeping else, 
But what your jealousies await; I tell you, 
^Tis rigour, and not law. W.T. iii. 2. 

Impartial are our eyes, and ears : 
Were he my brother, nay, my kingdom's heir, 
Now by my sceptre's awe I make a vow. 
Such neighbour nearness to our sacred blood 
Should nothing yjrivilege him, nor partialize 
The unstooping firmness of my upright soul. R. II. i. 1. 

He shall have merely justice, and his bond. M.V, iv. 1. 

JUSTICE OF Peace. ^ 

He's a justice of peace in his county, simple though 1 
stand here. M.W, i. 1. 


Kent, in the commentaries Caesar writ, 
Is termed. the civil'st place of all this isle: 
Sweet in the country, because full of riches ; 
The people liberal, valiant, active, wealthy. 

H. VL PT. II. iv. 1 , 

KiL IjinItEspiiriiiD 5irtiniiiirt[* kin 


To kill, I grant, is sin's extremest gust ; 

But, in defence, by mercy, it is just. T, A iii. 5. 


When your head did but ache, 
I knit my handkerchief about your brows, 
(The best I had, a princess wrought it me,) 
And I did never ask it you again : 
And with my hand at midnight held your head ; 
And, like the watchful minutes to the hour. 
Still and anon cheer'd up the heavy time ; 
Saying, — What lack you ? — -and, — Where lies your grief? 

K.J, IN, I, 

What would you have ? your gentleness shall force, 

More than your force move us to gentleness. A,Y, ii. 7. 

Blunt not his love ; 
Nor lose the good advantage of his grace. 
By seeming cold, or careless of his will. 
For he is gracious if he be observ'd. H. IV, pt. ii. iv. 1. 

You may ride us, 
With one soft kiss, a thousand furlongs, ere 
With spur we heat an acre. W.T.i.2 

KINGS (See also Authouity, Crown, Fallen Greatness). 
lie may not, as unvalued persons do, 
Car\e for himself; for on his choice depends 
The safety and the health of the whole state ; 
And therefore must his choice be circumscrib'd 
Unto the voice and yielding of that body, 
AVhereof he is- the head. H. i. 3. 

hard condition, twin-born with greatness, 
Subject to the breath of every fool, 
Whose sense no more can feel but his own wringing ! 
What infinite heart's ease must kings neglect. 
That private men enjoy ! 

And what have kings, that privates have not too, 
Save ceremony, save general ceremony? 
And what art thou, thou idol ceremony? 
What kind of god art thou, that suifer'st more 
Of mortal griefs than do thy worshippers? 
What are thy rents ? what are thy comings in ? 
O, ceremony, show me but thy worth 
What, is thy soul of adoration ? 
Art thou aught else but place, degree, and form. 
Creating awe and fear in other men? 
Wherein thou art less happy, being fear'd. 
Than they in fearing 


Kiisr Ijinlunpnridii Dirtinmini- kin 

KINGS, — continued. 

What drink' st thou oft instead of homage sweet, 

But poison'd flattery ? 0, be sick, great greatness, 

And bid thy ceremony give thee cure! 

Tliink'st thou, the fiery fever will go out 

With titles blown from adulation ? 

Will it give place to tiexure and low bending? 

Canst thou, when thou command'st the beggar's knee, 

Com^nand the health of it? No, thou proud dream; 

That play'st so subtly with a king's repose ; 

I am a king, that find thee ; and I know, 

'Tis not the balm, the sceptre, and the ball, 

The sword, the mace, and crown imperial, 

The inter-tissued robe of gold and pearl, 

The farced title running 'fore the king, 

The throne he sits on, nor the tide of pomp, 

That beats upon the high shore of this world; 

No, not all these, thrice gorgeous ceremony, 

Not all these, laid in bed majestical, 

Can sleep so soundly as the wretched slave ; 

Who, with a body tiird, and vacant mind, 

Gets him to rest, cramm'd with distressful bread ; 

Never see* horrid night, the child of hell ; 

But like a lackey, from the rise to set, 

Sweats in the eye of Phoebus, and all night 

Sleeps in Elysium ; next day, after dawn, 

Doth rise, and help Hyperion to his horse ; 

And follows so the ever-running year 

With profitable labour, to his grave : 

And, but for ceremony, such a wretch, 

Winding up his days with toil, and nights with sleep, 

Had the fore-hand and vantage of a king. H. V. iv. L 

Draw not thy sword to guard iniquity, 

For it was lent thee all that brood to kill. Poems, 

Ay, every inch a king. K. L. iv. 6. 

Kings are earth's gods : in vice their law's their will ; 

And if Jove stray, who dares say, Jove doth ill ? P. P. i. 1. 

Princes are 
A model which heaven makes like to itself: 
As jewels lose their glory, if neglected. 
So princes their renown if not respected, P. P. ii. 2. 

Ha, majesty ! how high thy glory towers. 
When the rich blood of kings is set on fire I 
0, noAV doth death line his dead chaps with steel; 
The swords of soldiers are his teeth, his fangs ; 
And now he feasts, mouthing the fleSh of men, 
In undetermined differences of kings. K, J. ii. 2. 


KIN IjniItEsjitiiriiiii Sirtinmirq. kin 

Kl NG S,- 'Continued. 

D but think, 
How sweet a thing it is to wear a crown ; 
Within whose circuit is Elysium, 
And all that poets feign of bliss and joy! 

11. VI. PT. III. i. 2, 
majesty ! 
When thou dost pinch thy l)earor, thou dost sit 
Like a rich armour worn in heat of da}^ 
That scalds with safety. H. IV, pt. ii. iv. 4. 

Yet looks he like a king ; bihold, his eye, 
As bright as is the eaglu's, iiglitens forth 
Controlling majesty : Aiack, ai ick, for woe, 
That any harm si^ould stain so f lir a show. B. II. iii. ^ 
Not all the water in the rough, rude sea 
Can wash the balm from an anointed king ! I?,. II. iii. 2. 
Is not the king's name forty thousand names? R, II. iii. 2. 
There's such divinity doth hedge a king. 
That treason can but peep to what it would, 
Acts little of his will. II iv. 5 

How long a time lies in one little word, 

Four lagging winters, and four v/anton springs, 

End in a word ; such is the bre:i th of kings. II. II i. 3 

High heaven forbid, 
That kings should let their ears hear their faults hi3^ 

P. P. i. 2. 
When we are wrong'd, and would unfold our griefs, 
We are denied access unto his person, 
Even by those men that most have done us wrong. 

H. IV. PT. II. iv. 1. 

The king is a good king ; but it must be as it may ; he 
passes some humours and careers. ZT. F. ii. 1, 

He is a happy king, since from his subjects 

He gains the name of good, by his government. P. P ii. 1. 

The hearts of princes kiss obedience, 

So much they love it ; but, to stubborn spirits, 

They swell, and grow as terrible as storms. H.VLIZ iii. 1, 

Gives not the hawthorn bush a sweeter shade 

To shepherds, looking on their silly sheep 

Than doth a rich embroider'd canopy, 

To kings that fear their subjects' treachery ? 

0, yes, it doth ; a thousand fold it doth. 

And, .to conclude, — The shepherd's homely curds, 

His cold thin drink out of his leather bottle, 


KIN lljaltrBpuriim Birtinnnrtj. kd 

KING S, — continued. 

His wonted sleep under a fresli tree^s shade, 

All which secure and sweetly he enjoys, 

Is fiir beyond a prince's delicates ; 

His viands sparkling in a golden cup, 

His body couched in a curious bed, 

When care, mistrust, and treason, wait on him. 

H. VL PT. III. ii. 5 

Who was the first of Britain, that did put 
His brows within a golden crown, and called 
Himself a king. Cym. iii. 1 

Who has a book of all that monarchs do, 
He's more secure to keep it shut than shown. F. P. i. 1 
Peace, peace, my lords, and give experience tongue. 
They do abuse the king that Batter him : 
For flattery is the bellows blows up sin ; 
The thing the which is flatter'd, but a spark, 
To which that breath gives heat and stronger glowing ; 
Whereas reproof, obedient, and in order, 
Fits kings, as they are men, for they may err. P. P. i. 2 

The mightier man, the mightier is the thing 

That makes him honour'd, or begets him hate. Poems 

A thousand flatteries sit within thy crown, 

AVhose compass is no bigger than thy head ; 

And yet, incaged in so small a verge, 

The waste is no whit lesser than tliy land. R. II. ii. 1 

I will be jovial ; come, come ; I am a king, 
My masters, know you that? K. L. iv. 6 

Landlord of England art thou now, not king: 
Thy state of law is bond-slave to the law. R.II. ii 1 

The king is not himself, but basely led by flatterers. 

R. IL ii 1 
The skipping king he ambled up and down. 
With shallow jesters and rash bavin wits. 

ILIV.FT. I. iii 2. 

Princes have but their titles for their glories, 

An outward honour for an inward toil ; 

And, for unfelt imaginations, 

They often feel a world of restless caros : 

So that, between their titles, and low name, 

There's nothing differs but the outward fame. R. III. i. 4, 

For within the hollow crown, 
That rounds the mortal temples of a king, 

KIN Ijjakriipnriiiii l)irtiniiEn|. kin 

KINGS, — continued. 

Keeps death his court : and there the antic sits, 

ScoiUng his state, and grinning at his pomp ; 

Allowing him a brtiath, a little scene 

To monarchise, be fear'd, and kill with looks ; 

Infusing him with self anvl vain couceit, — 

As if this tiesh, that walls about our life, 

AVere brass inipregaable ; and humour'd thus, 

(Joaies at the Uxst, and with a little pin 

Bores through liis castle wall, and — farewell, king, 

k.IL iii. 2. 
Cover your heads, and mock not flesh and blood 
With solemn reverence ; tlirow away respect, 
Tradition, form, and ceremonious duty. 
For you have but mistook mo all this while : 
I live on bread like you, feel want like you. 
Taste grief, need friends, like you : subjected thus. 
How can you say to me — I am a king ! 11. II. iii. 2, 

Cromwell, Crom\\ell, 
Had I but serv'd my God, with half the zeal 
I serv'd the king, he would not iu mine age 
Have left me naked to mine enemies. 11. VIII. iii. 2. 

I think the king is but a man, as I am : the violet smells 
to him as it doth to me ; the element shows to him as it 
doth to me ; all his senses have but human conditi(ms : hia 
ceremonies laid by, in his nakedness he appears but a man; 
and though his aifoctions are iiigher mounted than ours, yet, 
when they str)op, they stoop with the like wing ; theretore, 
when he sees reason of fears, as we do, his fears, out of 
doubt, be of the same relish as ours are. //. V. iv. i. 

Well, I perceive he was a wise fellow, and had good dis- 
cretion, that being l)id to ask what he would of the king, 
desired he might know none of his secrets. Now do I see 
he had some reason for it: for if a king bid a man be a 
villain, he is bound by the indenture of his oath to be one. 

R F, i. 2 
But not a minute, king, that thou can'st give : 
Shorten my days, thou can'st, witli sullen sorrow, 
And pluck nights from me, but not lend a morrow: 
Thou canst help time to furrow me with age, 
I^ut stop no wrinkle in his pilgrimage ; 
Thy word is current with him for my death ; 
But, d )ad, thy kingdom cannot buy my breath. R. 11. i. 3. 

■ ' Henry V. 

I saw 3'Oung Harry with his beaver on, 
Ilis cnissos on his thighs, g;illantly arm'd,- 

KIN Itfaktsprartnn DirtinHanj, kin 

KING Henry V., — continved. 

liise from the ground, like feathered Mercury, 

And vaulted with such ease into his seat, 

As if an angel dropped down from the clouds, 

To turn and wind a fiery Pegasus, 

And witch the world with noble horsemanship. 

H. IV, FT. I. iv. I. 

England ne'er had a king until his time. 

Virtue he had, deserving to command ; 

ITis brandished swofd did blind men with his beams ; 

His arms spread wider than a dragon^s wings ; 

His sparkling eyes, replete with wrathful fire. 

More dazzled and drove back his enemies, 

Than mid-day sun, fierce bent against their faces. 

What should I say ? his deeds exceed all speech : 

He ne'er lift up his hand, but conquered. H. VL ft. i. i. 1, 

Hear him but reason in divinity. 

And, all-admiring, with an inward wish 

You would desire the king were made a prelate: 

Hear him debate of commonwealth affairs. 

You would say — it hath been all-in-all his study ; 

List his discourse of war, and you shall hear 

A fimrful battle rendered you in music : 

Turn him to any cause of policy, 

The Gordian knot of it he will unloose, » 

Familiar as his garter ; that, when he speaks, 

The air, a chartered libertine, is still, 

And the mute wonder lurketh in men's ears, 

To steal his sweet and honey'd sentences. H. F. i. 1. 
Henry VI. 

But all his mind is bent to holiness, 

To number Ave-Maries on his beads ; 

His champions are — the prophets and apostles ; 

His weapons, holy saws of sacred writ; 

His study is his tilt-yard, and his loves 

Are brazen images of canoniz'd saints. H. VL ft. ii. i. 3, 
• Richard III. 

Tetchy and wayward was thy infancy ; 

Thy school-days frightful, desperate, wild, and furious ; 

Thy prime of manhood daring, bold, and venturous ; 

Thy age confirmed, proud, subtle, sly, and bloodv. 

E, IIL iv. 4 

, 's Absence ani Return, Typified. 

Know'st thou not, 

That when the searching eye of heaven is hid 

Behind the globe, and lights the lower world, 

Then thieves and robbers range abroad unseen, 


KIN Ijinkisjititrinii Dirtinnnrif. kis 

KING'S Absence and Return, Typified, — continued. 
In murders and in outrage, bloody here ; 
But Avhen, from under this terrestrial ball, 
He fires the proud tops of the eastern pines, 
And darts his light through every guilty hole, 
Then murders, treasons, and detested sins, 
The cloak of night being pluck'd from off their backs, 
Stand bare and naked, trembling at themselves ? B.IL iii. 2 

« 's Adviser. 

That man, that sits within a monarch's heart, 

And ripens in the sunshine of his favour. 

Would he abuse the countenance of the king. 

Alack, v^^hat mischiefs might he set abroach, 

In shadow of such greatness ! H. IV, pt. it. iv. 2. 

• Death of a. 

The cease of majesty 
Dies not alone ; but, like a gulf, doth draw 
What^s near it with it : it is a massy wheel, 
Fix'd on the summit of the highest mount, 
To whose huge spokes ten thousand lesser things 
Are mortis'd and adjoinM ; which, when it falls, 
Each small annexment, petty consequence, 
Attends the boisterous ruin. H, iii. 3, 

. 's Evil. 

'Tis call'd the evil: 
A most miraculous work in this good king : 
Which often, since my here-remain in England, 
I have seen him do. How he solicits heaven. 
Himself best knows : but strangel}^ visited people, 
All swoln and ulcerous, pitiful to the eye. 
The mere despair of surgery, he cures ; 
Hanging a golden stamp about their necks. 
Put on with holy prayers ; and His spoken, 
To the succeeding royalty he leaves 

The healing benediction. M. iv. 3. 

Ay, Sir ; there are a crew of wretched souls. 
That stay his cure ; their malady convinces 
The great assay of art ; but, at his touch, 
Such sanctity hath heaven given his land, 
They presently amend. M. iv. 3. 


0, a kiss 
Long as my exile, sweet as my revenge ! 
Now, by the jealous queen of heaven, that kiss 
I carried from thee, dear ; and my true lip 
Hath virgin'd it e'er since. C, T. 3. 


Kis lljnkrspHrittn Sirtinnnrij. kna 

KISS, — co7itinuecU 

Very good ; well kissed ! an excellent courtesy. [>. ii. 1. 

This done, he took the bride about the neck ; 

And kiss'd her lips with such a clamorous smack, 

That, at the parting, all the church did echo. T. S. iii. 2. 

Teach not thy lip such scorn ; for it was made 

For kissing, lady, not for such contempt. B. III. i. 2. 

KISSES, Cold. 

lie hath bought a pair of cast lips of Diana ; a nun of 
winter's sisterhood kisses not more religiously ; the very 
ice of chastity is in them. A.Y. iii. 4. 

And his kissing is as full of sanctity as the touch of holy 
bread. A. Y. iii. 4. 

' Expressive. 

I understand thy kisses, and thou mine, 

And that's a feeling disputation. ff. IV, pt. i. iii. 1 


A knave ; a rascal, an eater of broken meats ; a base, 
proud, shallow, beggarly, three-suited, hundred-pound, filthy 
worsted-stocking knave ; a lily-liver'd, action-taking knave ; 
a whoreson, glass-gazing, superserviccable, finical rogue ; a 
one-trunk-inheriting slave : one whom I will beat into clam- 
orous whining, if thou denyest the least syllable of thy 
additions. K. L. ii. 2. 

A shrewd, knave, and an unhappy. A. W. iv. 5. 

A slippery and subtle knave ; a finder out of occasions ; 
that has an eye can stamp and counterfeit advantages, 
though true advantage never present itself: a devilish 
knave ! 0. ii. 1. 

What a pestilent knave is this same I R. /. iv. 5. 

I grant your worship, that he is a knave, Sir ; but yet, 
God forbid. Sir, but a knave should have some countenance 
at his friend's request. An honest man, Sir, is able to 
speak for himself, when a knave is not. I have served your 
worship truly, Sir, for this eight years ; and if I cannot 
once or twice in a quarter bear out a knave against an 
honest man, I have but very little credit with your worship. 
The knave is mine honest friend. Sir; therefore, I beseech 
your worship, det him be countenanced. H. IV. pt. ii. v. 1. 

A beetle-headed, flat-ear'd knave. T.S. iv. 1 

Use his men well, for they are arrant knaves, and will 
backbit?. H.IV. pt. ii. v. 1 

That such a slave as this should wear a sword, 

KNA lljEltrspmiim SirtinDart}. kno 

KNAVES, — continued. 

Who wears no honesty. Such smiling rogues as :hese 
Like rats, oft bite the holy cords atwain, 
Which are too int'rinse t^ unloose. K. L. ii. 2. 

By holy Mary, Butts, there's knavery. H, VIII. v. 2. 


Sweet knight, thou art now one of the greatest men in 
the realm. H. IV: ft. ii. v. 3. 

Well, now can I make any Joan a lady : 
Good-den, Sir Eicliard, — God-a- mercy ^ felloio ; — 
And if his name be George, I'll call him Peter; 
For new-made honour doth forgot men's names; 
^Tis too respective, and too sociable, 

For 3'Our conversion. K, J. i. 1. 

He is a knight, dubbed with unbacked rapier, and on 

carpet consideration. T. N. iii. 4. 

There lay he stretch'd along, like a wounded knight. 

i.riii. 2. 

When lirst this order was ordainM, my lords, 

Knights of tlie garter wore of noble birth ; 

Valiant, and virtuous, fail of haughty courage ,^ 

Such as wore grown to credit l)y the wars : 

N(jt fearing death, nor sln-inkiiig fur distress, 

But always rc^sulute in most extremes. 

lie then that is not furnish'd in this sort, 

l)(jth but usurp the sacred name of knight. 

Profaning this most honourable order. H.VI. ft. i. iv. 1. 


Here's a knocking, indeed ! If a man were porter of 
hell-gate, he siiouid have old turning the key.' Who's 
there, i' the name of Belzebub I M. ii. 3. 

KNOTS IX Timber. 

As knots, ))y the conflux of meeting sap, 

Infect the sound pine, and divert his gr:iin, 

Tortive and errant from his course of growth, T.C. i. 3. 


This fellow's of exceeding honesty, 

And knovrs all qU'alities with a learned spirit 

Of human dealings. 0. iii. 3. 

Is this the man 'i Is't you, Sir, that know things ? 

A.C 1,2. 


Too much to know% is to know nought but fame. L. L, i. 1, 

197 IV^ 

LAB lljalvEsiiEiiriiin Sirtinimrif. iat 



JN"^ umbering sands and drinking oceans dry. R. 11. ii. 2 
You may as well go about to turn the sun to ice, by fan- 
ning in his face with a peacock^s feather. //. V. iv. 1. 

I have seen a swan 
With bootless labour swim against the tide, 
And spend her strength with over-matching waves. 

H. VI. PT. III. i. 4. 


Here^s a maze trod, indeed, 
Through forth-rights, and meanders ! 2^. iii. 3. 

LAMENTATIONS (See also Sorrow, Tears). 

Why should calamity be full of words ? R. III. iv. 4. 

Windy attorneys to their client woes, 
Airy succeeders to intestate joys, 
Poor breathing orators of miseries ! 
Let them have scope : though what they do impart, 
Help nothing else, yet do they ease the heart. R.IIL iv. 4. 
Alas, poor Yorick ! H, v. 1. 

AVise men ne'er sit and wail their loss, 
But cheerly seek how to redress their harms. 

H. VI. PT. III. V. 4. 
Cry, Trojans, cry ! lend me ten thousand eyes, 
And I will fill them with prophetic tears. 
Virgins and boys, mid-age and wrinkled elders, 
Soft infancy, that nothing canst but cry, 
Add to my clamours ! let us pay betimes 
A moiety of that mass of moan to come. T.C. ii. 2. 

LAND Owner. „ 

He hath much land, and fertile : — 'Tis a chough ; but, as 
I say, spacious in the possession of dirt. H. v. 2. 

LANGUAGE, Engaging. 

He speaks holiday. M. W. iii. 2. 


The lark, whose notes do beat 
The vanity heaven so high above our heads. R. J, iii. 5. 

LATE Hours. 

Have you no wit, manners, nor honesty, but to gabble 
like tinkers at this time of night ? T. N. ii. 3. 

What doth gravity out of his bed at midnight ! 

H. IV, PT. I. ii. 4, 


LAT IjniItrHfrfuriniiDirtinniinf, law 


Away with him, away with him ! He speaks Latic 

H.VL FT. II. .V. 2. 
0, good my lord, no Latin ; 
I am not such a truant since my coming, 
As not to know the language I have liv'd in. H. VIIL iii. 1. 

You do ill to teach the child such words : he teaches him 
to hick, and to hack, which they^ll do fast enough of them- 
selves ; and to call horum ; — fye upon you I M. W. iv. 1. 

0, I smell false Latin. L. L. v. 1. 


With his eyes in flood with laughter. Cym, i. 7. 

0, you shall see him laugh, till his face be like a wet 
cloak, ill laid up. H. IV. ft. ii. v. 1. 

With such a zealous laughter, so profound. L. L. v. 2. 

Stopping the career of laughter with a sigh. Vr^.2\ i. 2. 

Making that idiot, laughter, keep men's eyes, 
And strain their cheeks to idle merriment, 
A passion hateful to my purposes. K. J. iii. 3. 

0, I am stabb'd with laughter. L. L. v. 2 

More merry tears 
The passion of loud laughter never shed- M. JSf, v. 1 

LAW (See also Litigation). 

We have strict statutes and most biting laws. M. M. i. 4. 

AVhen law can do no right, 
Let it be lawful, that law bar no wrong. K. J. iii. L 

In law, what plea so tainted and corrupt, 
But, being seasoned with a gracious voice, 
Obscures the show of evil ? M. V. iii. 2. 

Help, master, help ; here's a fish hangs in the net, like 
a poor man's right in the law ; 'twill hardly come out. 

P. P. ii. 1. 
The brain may devise laws for the blood ; but a hot tem- 
per leaps over a cold decree: such a hare is madness the 
youth, to skip o'er the meshes of good counsel the cripple. 

M. V. i. 2. 
We must not make a scarecrow of the law, 
Setting it up to fear the birds of prey. 
And let it keep one shape till custom make it 
Their perch, and not their terror. M. M. ii. 1. 

There is no power in Venice 
Can alter a decree established : 
'Twill be recorded fol* a precedent ; 


LAW Iliulvii^iiiEriiiii BirtinHanf. lea 

LAW, — continued. 

And many an error, by the same example, 

Will rush into the state : it cannot be. M. V. iv. 1. 

We are for law, he dies. T. A. iii. 5. 

It pleases time and fortune to lie heavy 

Upon a friend of mine, who, in hot blood, 

Hath steppM into the law, which is past depth 

To those that, without heed, plunge into it. T, A. iii. 5, 

Now, as fond fathers, , 
Having bound up the threatening twigs of birch, 
Only to stick it in their children's sight, 
For terror, not to use ; in time the rod 
Becomes more mock'd than fea^rM : so our decrees. 
Dead to intiiction, to themselves are dead ; 
And liberty plucks justice by the nose. M. M. i. 4. 

AYhat's open made to justice. 
That justice seizes. What know the laws. 
That tliieves do pass on thieves ? ^Tis very pregnant, 
The jewel that we find we stoop and take it, 
Because we see it ; but what we do not see. 
We tread upon, and never think of it. M. M. ii. 1. 

The bloody book of law 
You shall yourself read in the bitter letter, 
After your own sense. 0. i. 3. 

If by this crime he owes the law his life, 
AV^hy, let the war receiv't in valiant gore ; 
Tor law is strict, and waj* is nothing more. T, A. iii. 5. 

Faith, I have been a truant in the law ; 
And never yet could frame my will to it; 
And, therefore, frame the law unto my will. 

H. VI. PT. I. ii. 4. 
But, I pr^ythee, sweet wag, shall there be gallows stand- 
ing in England when thou art king ? — and resolution thua 
fobb'd as it is, with the rusty curb of old father antic, the 
law? FT. 1,12. 

• Abuse of. 

The usurer hangs the cozener. K. L. iv. 6, 


The first thing we do, let's kill all the lawvers. 

H. FL PT. II. iv. 2. 
Do as adversaries in law, strive mightily, 
But eat and drink as friends. T, S, i. 2. 


Another of his fashion they havQ not ; 

To lead their business. 0, i. 1^ 


LEA IIjEkispatian DiriinDiinf. let 


AYould he were fatter : — But I fear him not : — 

Yet if my name were liable to fear, 

I do not know the man I should avoid 

So soon as that spare Cassius. He reads much ; 

He is a great observer, and he looks 

Quite through the deeds of men ; he loves no plays, 

As thou dost, Antony ; he hears no music: 

Seldom he smiles ; and smiles in such a sort, 

As if he mock'd himself, and scorn'd his spirit 

That could be mov'd to smile at any thing. 

Such men as he be never at heart's ease, 

Whiles they behold a greater than themselves ; 

And therefore are they very dangerous. J,C. i. 2. 

LEARNING (See also Light, King Henry V., Study). 

this learning ! what a thing it is 1 T. S. i. 2. 

Learning is but an adjunct to ourself. L. L, iv. 3. 

A mere hoard of gold, kept by a devil; till sack com- 
mences it, and sets it in use, H. IV. ft. ii. iv. 3 


Will you mock at an antient tradition, begun upon an 
honourable respect, and worn as a memorable trophy of 
predeceased valour, — and dare not avouch in your deeds 
any of your words ? M.V, y,1^ 


I spy entertainment in her ; she discourses, she carves, 
she gives the leer of invitation. Jlf. W, i. 3. 


Sirrah, your brother is legitimate : 

Your father's wife did after wedlock bear him : 

And if she did play false, the fault was her's ; 

Which fault lies on the hazards of all husbands 

That marry wives. K. J. i. 1. 


For what doth cherish weeds but gentle air ? 

And what makes robbers bold, but too much lenity ? 

H. VI. FT. III. ii. 6. 

My gracious liege, this too much lenity 

And harmful pity, must be laid aside. M,FL ft. iit. ii. 2. 


An' it shall please you to break up this, it shall seem to 
signify. M. F. ii. 4. 


LET IjniIiBspEtiau Dirtinimrii* lia 


Why, what read you there, 
That hath so cowarded and chased your blood, 
Out of appearance ? ff. F. ii. 2. 

Let us see : — 
Leave, gentle wax ; and manners, blame us not. K.L. iv. 6. 

Refid o^er this ; 
And after, this ; and then to breakfast, with 
What appetite you have. H. VIIL iii. 2. 

Here are a few of the unpleasant'st words 
That ever blotted paper. M, F. iii. 2. 

Why, thou picture of what thou seemest, and idol of 
idiot-worshippers, here's a letter for thee. T. C. v 1. 

LIAR. Lies. Lying. 

One that lies three-thirds, and uses a known truth to pass 
a thousand nothings with, should be once heard, and thrice 
beaten. A fT. ii. 5. 

You told a lie ; an odious, damned lie ; 
Upon my soul, a lie ; a wicked lie. 0. v. 2. 

He will lie, Sir, with such volubility, that you would 
think truth were a fool. A, W. iv. 3. 

Two beggars told me, 
I could not miss my way: Will poor folks lie, 
That have afflictions on them ; knowing 'tis 
A punishment, or trial ? Yes ; no wonder. 
When rich ones scarce tell true : To lapse in fulness 
Is sorer than to lie for need ; and falsehood 
Is worse in kings than beggars. Cym. iii. 6. 

Let me have no lying ; it becomes none but tradesmen. 

W, 1\ iv. 3. 
Detested kite ! thou liest. K. L. i. 4. 

These lies are like the father that begets them ; gross aa 
a mountain, open, palpable. H. IV. pt. i. ii. 4. 

This same starved justice hath done nothing but prate to 
me of the wildness of his youth, and the feats he hath done 
about TurnbuU-street ; and every third word a lie, duer 
paid to the hearer than the Turk's tribute. 

IT. IF. PT. II. iii. 2. 
Thou liest, thou jesting monkey, thou. T. iii. 2. 

Whose tongue soe'er speaks false. 
Not truly speaks ; who speaks not truly, lies. K. /. iv. 3. 

A very honest woman, but something given to lie; as 
a woman should not do, but in the way of honesty. 



LiA lljakrapEnriiiii Sirtinnnrij. lip 

LIAR, — continued. 

Lord, Lord, how subject we old men are to this vice of 
lying ! H. IV, pt. ii. iii. 4. 

HIS OWN Dupe. 

Like one, 
Who having, unto truth, by telling of it, 
Made such a sinner of his memory, 
To credit his own lie. T, i. 2. 


Blessed be those. 
How mean soe'er, that have their honest wills. 
Which seasons comfort. Cj/m. i. 7. 


As surfeit is the father of much fast. 

So every scope, by the immoderate use, 

Turns to restraint. M. if. i. 3. 

LIFE (See also Illusion, Man, Death). 

Thy life's a miracle. K. L. iv. 6, 

Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player, 

That struts and frets his hour upon the stage, 

And then is heard no more ; it is a tale 

Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, 

Signifying nothing. M, v. 5. 

gentlemen, the time of life is short ; 

To spend that shortness basely, were too long, 

If life did ride upon a dial's point. 

Still ending at th^ arrival of an hour. JET. IV. pt. i. v. 2. 

1 see, a man's life is a tedious one. Cym. iii. G. 
Like madness is the glory of this life. T. A. i. 2. 

Reason thus with life : — • 
If I do lose thee, I do lose a thing. 
That none but fools would keep. M. M. iii. 1. 

The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill 
together : our virtues would be proud, if our faults whipp'd 
them not ; and our crimes would despair, if they were not 
cherished by our virtues. A. W, iv. 3. 

The sands are number'd that make up my life. 

H.FI. pt. III. 1.4. 
Life is a shuttle. M. TV. v. 1, 

Thus play I, 'n one person, many people, 
And none contented. i?. //. 5. 

excellent ! I love long life better than figs ! A. C, i. 2, 

OF |liiilvB3|iriiriiiii Sirtinimrii:. lio 

LIFE, — continued. 

Think, ye see 
The very persons of our noble story, 
As they were living ; think, you see them great, 
And followM with the general throng, and sweat, 
Of thousand friends , then, in a mom-ent, see 
How soon this mightiness meets misery! H. VIII. prologue. 
It is silliness to live, when to live is a torment: and then 
we have a prescription to die, when death is our physician. 

That life is better life, past fearing death, 
Than that which lives to fear. . M. M. v. 1. 

Thus, sometimes, hath the brightest day a cloud ; 
And, after summer, evermore succeeds 
Barren winter, with his wrathful nipping cold : 
So cares and joys abound, as seasons fleet. 

H. VL PT. II. ii. 4. 
Epitomized (See "VYorld). 

Desire of. 

Camillo, — I very well agree with you in the hopes of 
him: it is a gallant child; one that, indeed, physics the 
subject, makes old hearts fresh : they, that went on 
crutches ere he was born, desire yet their life, to see 
him a man. 

AixMdamiis. — Would they else be content to die ? 

Camillo. — Yes ; if there were no other excuse why they 
should desire to live. 

Archidamus. — If the king had no son, they would 
desire to live on crutches till he had one. W. T. i. 1. 

LIGHT (See also Studv). 

Light, seeking light, doth light of light beguile : 

So, ere you find where light in darkness lies, 

Your light grows dark by losing of your eyes. L. L. i. 1. 


And this same half-fac'd fellow. Shadow, — give me thia 
man ; he presents no mark to the enemy ; the foeman may^ 
with as great aim level at the edge of a pen-knife : And, for 
a retreat, — how swiftly will this Feebl(^ the woman's tailor, 
run off! 0, give me the spare men, and spare me the great 
ones. II. IV. FT. II. iii. 2. 

LIGHTNING (See also Quickness). 

Like the lightning, which doth cease to be, 
Ere one can say, — It lightens ! E. J. ii. 2. 

Brief as the lightning in the collied night. 
That, in a spleen, unfolds both heaven and earth ; 

LiG Ijiiiltr0|irnrinii I)irtinHart|. lon 


And ere a man can say, — Behold ! 

The jaws of darkness do devour it up. M, K. L 1, 

To stand a^i^alnst the deep dread-bolted thunder, 

In the most terrible and nimble stroke 

Of quick, cross lightning. K. L. iv. 7. 

LINEAGE (See also Ancestry). 

A plague of both your houses ! E.J. iii. 1. 

There's neither honesty, manhood, nor good fellowship 
in thee, nor thou camest not of the blood-royal, if thou dar'st 
not stand for ten shillings. II. IV. pt. i. i. 2. 


The royal disposition of that beast, 
To prey on nothing that doth seem as dead. A.Y. iv. 3. 

So looks the pent-up lion o'er the wretch, 
That trembles under his devouring paws: 
And so he walks, insulting o'er his prey ; 
And so he comes to rend his limbs asunder. 

E. VL PT. III. i. 3. 

LITIGATION (See also Law). 

I'll have an action of battery against him, if there be any 
law in Illyria. T, N. iv. 1. 

Persuade me not, I will make a star chamber matter of it. 

M. W. i. 1 

I'll answer him by law; I'll not budge an inch. 

T. S. Ind. 1. 


You take my life, 
When you do take the means whereby I live. M. V. iv. 1. 


Alack, the night comes on, and the bleak winds 

Do sorely ruffle ; for many miles about 

There's scarce a bush. K. L. ii. 4. 


But whate'er I am, 
Nor I, nor any man, that but man is, 
With nothing shall be pleas'd, till he be eas'd 
With being nothing. E, U. v. 5. 


A light heart lives long. 

205 18 _ 

LON |lialvBS|iEiiriii!i DirtiniKirif. xX)m 

LONG (Stories). 

Men, pleasM themselves, think others will delight 

In such like circumstance, with such like sport, 

Their copious stories, oftentimes begun. 

End without audienc'e, and are never done. Poems, 


Thou art a lord, and nothing but a lord. T, S. Ind. 2 

Upon my life I am a lord, indeed ; 

And not a tinker, nor Christophero Sly. T. S. Ind. 2. 

LORD'S Anointed. 

A flourish, trumpets ! — strike alarum, drums ! 
Let not the heavens hear these tell-tale women 
Kail on the Lord's anointed. i?. ///. iv. 4. 

LOYE (See also Courtship, Fidelity). 

Let me not to the marriage of true minds 

Admit impediments. Love is not love, 
Which alters when it alteration finds, 

Or bends with the remover to remove. 
no, it is an ever-fixed mark. 

That looks on tempests, and is never shaken ; 
It is the star to every wand'ring bark, 

Whos^ worth's unknown, although his height be taken. 
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks 

Within his bending sickle's compass come ; 
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, 

But bears it out even to the edge of doom. Poems, 

To be wise, and love, exceeds man's might. T.C. iii. 2, 

Good shepherd, tell this youth wliat 'tis to love. 
It is to be all made of sighs and tears, 
It is to be all made of fiiith and service, 
It is to be all made of fiintasy. 
All made of passion, and all made of wishes ; 
All adoration, duty, and observance, 
All humljlenoss, all patience^ and impatience. 
Ail purity, all trial, all observance. A.Y, v. 2. 

As love is full of unbefitting strains ; 
All wanton as a child, skipping, and vain ; 
• Form'd by the eye, and, therefore, like the eye, 
Full of strange shapes, of habits, and of forms, 
A'^arying in su])jects as the eye doth roll 
To every varied object in his ghmce. X. L. v. 2. 

But love, first learned in a lady's eyes, 
Lives not alone immured in the brain : 
Jiut with the motion of all elements, 
Courses as swift as thought in every power ; 

LOT ijjnltJspEiiriiiii SirtianEnj. lov 

.LO \ y.! , — cont inu ed. 

And gives to every power a double power, 

A-bove their funetions and their offices. 

lit adds a precious seeing to the eye ; 

A lover's eyes will gaze an eagle blind ; 

A lover's ear will hear the lowest sound, 

When the suspicious head of theft is stopp'd ; 

Love's feeling is more soft, and sensible, 

Than are the tender horns of cockled snails ; 

JiOve's tongue proves dainty Bacchus gross in taste: 

For valour, is not love a Hercules, 

Still climbing trees in the Ilesperides ? 

t3>ubtle as Sphynx, t»s .^w^-et and musical 

As bright Apollo's lute, -si^-mg with his hair; 

And, when love spcuks, ir\c voice of all the gods 

.Vlakes heaven drowsy witi^ the harmony. 

Never durst poet touch a pen n write, 

Until his ink were temper'u witn love's sighs ; 

O then his linos would ravish savage ears, 

And plant in tyrants mild hamiiity. L. L. iv. 3. 

Love is a smoke rais'd with the fume of sighs ; 

"iSeing purgM, a fire sparkling in a lover's eyes ; 

Being vex'd, a sea nourish'd with lovera' tears : 

What is it else ? a madness most disorbCv, 

A choking gall, and a preserving sveoi B. J, i. 1, 

I'Ove like a shadow flies, when substance love pursues ; 
Pursuing that that flies, and flying wha?. pursues. 

Didst thou but know the inly touch of love, 

Thou would'st as soon go kindle fire with snow, 

As seek to quench the fire of love with words. T. G, ii. 7. 

Things base and vile, holding no qi-^Qntity, 

Love can transpose to form and dignity. 

Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind : 

And therefore is wing'd Cupid painted blind ; 

Nor hath love's mind of any judgment taste ; 

Wings, and no eyes, figure unheedy haste ; 

And therefore is love said to be a child. 

Because in choice he is so oft beguil'd. M. iV. i. 1. 

Love is a familiar : love is a devil : there is no evil angel 
but love. Yet Sampson was so tempted ; and he had an 
excellent strength : yet was Solomon so seduced ; and he 
had a very good wit. i. i. i. 2, 

Adieu, valour! rust, rapier! be still, drum.! for your 
manager is in love ; yea, he loveth. L. L, i. 2, 


Lov , lljiiKBj^piiniiii SirtinHnrif. lov 

LO y E , — continued. 

king, believe not this hard-hearted man ; 

Love, loving not itself, none other can. R. 11. v. 3 

spirit of love, how quick and fresh art thou ! T. N. i. 1 

Come hither, boy: If ever thou shalt love, 
In the sweet pangs of it, remember me ; 
For, such as I am, all true lovers are ; 
Unstaid and skittish in all motions else, 
Save in the constant image of the creature 
That is belovM. T. JST. ii. 4, 

It is as easy to count atomies, as to resolve the proposi- 
tions of a lover. A. Y. iii. 2. 
The strongest, love will instantly make weak : 
Strike the wise dumb ; and teach the fool to speak. Poems 
Excellent wretch ! Perdition catch my soul, 
But I do love thee! and when I love thee not, 
Chaos is come again. 0. iii. 3 

1 know I love in vain, strive against hope ; 
Yet in this captious and intenible sieve, 

I still pour in the waters of my love. 

And lack not to lose still : thus, Indian-like, 

Religious in mine error, I adore 

The sun, that looks upon his worshipper, 

But knows of him no more. A. W. i. 3. 

We, that are true lovers, run into strange capers ; but as 
all is mortal in nature, so is all nature in love mortal in 
folly. Xr.ii.4. 

Love is merely a madness ; and, I tell you, deserves as 
well a dark house and a whip, as madmen do : and the 
reason why they are not so punished and cured, is, that 
the lunacy is so ordinary, that the whippers are in love too. 

^.F. iii. 2. 

coz, coz, coz, my pretty little coz, that thou didst know 
how many fathom deep I am in love ! But it cannot be 
sounded ; my affection hath an unknown bottom, like the 
bay of Portugal. A. Y. iv. i. 

Break an hour's promise in love 1 A. Y. iv. 1. 

By heaven, I do love ; and it hath taught me to rhyme, and 
to be melancholy. L. L. iv. 3. 

If he be not in love with some woman, there is no be- 
lieving old signs : he brushes his hat o' mornings ; — what 
should that bode ? M. A. iii. 3. 

The greatest note of it is his melancholy, M. A. iii. 2L 

Lov lljakB^pnrinn Dirtintinri):. lov 

LOYE, — continued. 

I found him under a tree, like a dropped acorn. 

But love is blind, and lovers cannot see 
The pretty follies that themselves commit ; 
For, if they could, Cupid himself would blush'. M, V. ii. 6. 
This is the very ecstacy of love : 
Whose violent property fore does itself, 
And leads the will to desperate undertakings, 
As oft as any passion under heaven, 
f That does afflict our natures. H. ii. 1. 

Cressid, I love thee in so strained a purity, 
That the blessM gods — as angry with my fancy, 
More bright in zeal than the devotion w^hich 
Cold lips blow to their deities. T. C. iv. 4. 

I do much wonder that one man, seeing how much 
another man is a fool when he dedicates his behaviour to 
love, will, after he hath laughed at such shallow follies in 
others, become the argument of his own scorn, by falling 
in love. M. A. ii. 3. 

The more thou damm'st it up, the more it burns ; 

The current, that with gentle murmur glides, 

Thou knoAv'st, being stopp'd, impatiently doth rage : 

But when his fair course is not hindered. 

He makes sweet music with th' enamel'd stones, 

Giving a gentle kiss to every sedge 

He overtaketh in his pilgrimage ; 

And so, by many winding nooks, he strays. 

With willing sport, to the wild ocean. T. G. ii. 7. 

0, pardon me, my lord ; it oft falls out. 

To have what we'd have, we speak not what we mean : 

I somothing do excuse the thing I hate, 

For his advantage that I dearly love. M. M. ii. 4. 

If I do not take pity of her, I'm a villain ; if I do not 
love her, I am a Jew : I will go get her picture. 

if.^.ii. 3. 

Not only, Mistress Ford, in the simple office of love, but 
in all accoutrement, complement, and ceremony of it. 

M. W. iv, 2, 
Tell her, my love, more noble than the world, 
Prizes not quantity of dirty lands ; 
Q'he parts that fortune hath bestowM upon her, 
Tell her, I hold as giddily as fortune ; 
But 'tis that miracle, and queen of gems, 
That nature pranks her in, attracts my soul. T. ISf. ii. 4. 

209 18* 

LOT |ljnIits|itiiriiiD Iiirtiniinrt|. lov 

LOVE, — coniinued. 

As the most forward bud 
Is eaten by the canker ere it blow, 
Ev'n so by love the young and tender wit 
Is turn'd to folly; blasting in the bud, 
Losing his A'erdure even in the prime, 
And all the fair effects of future hopes. T.G. i. 1 

0, how this spring of love reseml)leth 
The uncertain glory of an xVpril day ; 

Which now shows all the beauty of the sun, 

And by-and-by a cloud takes all away. T.G. i. ? 

As in the sweetest bud 
The eating canker dwells, so eating love 
Inhabits in the finest wits of all. T.G. i. 1. 

Your brother and my sister no sooner met, but they 
looked ; no sooner looked, but tliey loved ; no sooner loved, 
but they sighed ; no sooner sighed, but they asked one 
anotlier the reason ; no sooner knew the reason, but they 
sought the remedy : and in these degrees they have made a 
pair of stairs to marriage. A.Y. v. 2. 

Indeed, he was mad for her, and talkM of Satan, and of 
limbo, and of furies. A.W. v. 3. 

But if thy love were ever like to mine, 
How ma.ny actions most ridiculous 
I last thou been drawn to by thy fantasy! A.Y. ii. 4. 

lie was wont to speak plain, and to the purpose, like an 
honest man, and a soldier ; and now he has turn'd ortho- 
grapher ; his words are a very fantastical banquet, just, so 
many strange dishes. M. A. ii. 3, 

If thou remember'st not the slightest folly 
That ever love did make thee run into, 
Thou hast not lov'd. A.Y. ii. 4. 

! — And I, forsooth, in love ! 

1, that have been love's whip ; 

A very beadle to a humorous sigh : 

A critic ; nay, a night-watch constable ; 

A domineering pedant o^er the boy, 

Than whom no mortal so magnificent ! 

This wimpled, whining, pur])lind, wayward boy ; 

This senior-junior, giant-dwarf, Dan Cupid ; • 

Regent of love-rhymes, lord of folded arms, 

The anointed sovereign of sighs and groans, 

Liege of all loiterers and malcontents : 

* * -K- -x- 

What ? I ! I love ! I sue ! I seek a wdfe ! 
A woman, that is like a German clock, 


LOT lljalvrHiiEririiiii Dirtinininj, lov 

LOVE, — coniinved. 

Still a repairing; ever out of frame ; 

And never ^oing aright, being a watch, 

But being vratch'd that it may still go right I X, L. iii. 1. 

For aught that ever I could read, 
Could ever hear by tale or history, 
The course of true love never did run smooth ; 
But, either it was different in l)lood ; 
cross ! too high to be enthrall' d to low ! 
Or else niisgraffed, in respect of years ; 
spite 1 too old to be engag'd to young! 
Or else it stood upon the choice of friends : 

hell ! to choose love by another's eye ! 
Or, if there were a sympath.y in choice, 
War, death, or sickness did lay siege to it ; 
Making it momentary as a sound. 

Swift as a shadow, short as any. dream : 

Brief as the lightning in the collled night, , 

That, in a spleen, unfold l)oth heaven and earth, 

And ere a man hath power to say, — lichold! 

The jaws of darkness do devour it up: 

So quick bright things come to confusion. M. K. i. U 

For know, Tago, 
Bat that I love the gentle Dosdomona, 

1 would not my unhoused free condition 
Put into circumspection and confine, 

For the sea's worth. 0. i. 2. 

Love's reason's without reason. Cyni. iv. 2. 

The gods themselves, 
Ilumlding their deities to love, have taken 
The shapes of boasts upon them : Jupiter 
B<3came a ])ull and be How' d ; the green Neptune 
A ram, and 1)leated : and the fire-rob'd god, 
(Jolden Apollo, a poor liumble swain, 
As I seem now: Tlieir transformations 
AVere never f>r a ]ae(M^ of beaut^v, rarer; 
Nor in a way so chaste: since my desires 
Bun not before mine honour. W. T. iv. 3. 

He says, he loves my daughter; 
I think so too ; fur never gaz'd the moon 
Upon the water, as he'll stand and read. 
As 'twere, my daughter's eyes : and, to be plain, 
I think, there is not half a kiss to choose, 
Who Lves another best. W. T. iv. 3. 

Lov |^ijaiar:;:niniiii Pirtinuanj;. lov 

LOVE, — continupd. 

Still luirpino; on my daughter : — yet he knew me not at 
first ; he said, I was a fishmonger : lie is far gone, far gone. 

H. ii. 2. 
Ever till now, 
"When men were fond, I smil'd, and wonder'd how. 

M. M. ii. 2. 
All fancy-sick she is, and pale of cheer, 
With sighs of love. M. N. iii. 2. 

They are but beggars that can count their worth ; 
But my true love is- grown to such excess, 
I cannot sum up half my sum of wealth. B. J. ii. 6. 

jMine e^yes 
Were not in fault, for she was Ijoautiful ; 
Mine ears, that hoard her flattery ; nor mine heart, 
''^ That thought her like her seeming ; it had been vicious 
Tu have mistrusted her. C//m. v. 5. 

Soft, let us see ; — 
AVrite, " Lord have mercy upon us" on these three ; 
They are infected, in the heart it lies ; 
They have the plague, and caught it of your eyes. 

L. L. V. 2. 
A lean cheek, — a blue eye, and sunken, — an unquestion- 
(y al)le spirit, — a beard neglected : — Then your hose should 
be ungartered, your bonnet unhanded, your sleeve unbut- 
toned, your shoe untied, and every thing about you demon- 
strating a careless desolation. A.Y. iii. 2. 

If he love her not, 
And be not from his reason falFn thereon, 
Let me be no assistant for a state, 
j^ut keep a farm and carters. iT. ii. 2. 

then, give pity 
To her, whose state is such, that cannot choose 
I^ut lend and give, where she is sure to lose ; 
That seeks not to find what her search implies, 
Eut, riddle-like, live sweetly where she dies. A.W, i. 3. 

He is far gone, far gone:, and truly in my youth I 
suffered much extremity for love ; very near this. H. ii. 2. 
Here comes the lady. — 0, so light a foot 
Will ne^er wear out the everlasting flint. 
A lover may bestride the gossamers 
That idle in the wanton summer air, 
And yet not fall. • B, J. ii. 6. 

She never told her love, 
But lot concealment, like a worm i' the bud, 


Lov lljultispariiitt Birtinii0rt(- lov 

LOYE, — continued. 

Feed on her damask'd cheek : she pin'd in thought ; 
And, with a green and yellow melancholy, 
' She sat, like Patience on a monument, 
Smiling at grief. T. N.ii. 4 

However we do praise ourselves. 
Our fancies are more giddy and unfirm, 
More longing, wavering, sooner lost and won, 
Than women's are. T, N, ii. 4. 

AVe men may say more, swear more : but indeed, 
Our shows are more than will ; for still we prove 
Much in our vows, but little in our love. T. N. ii. 4. 

0, she that hath a heart of that fine fratne, 
To pay this debt of love but to a brother. 
How will she love, when the rich golden shaft 
Hath kill'd the flock of all affections else 
That live in her! when liver, brain, and heart, 
These sovereign thrones, are all supplied and filPd 
(Her sweet perfections,) with one self king ! — 
Away before me to sweet beds of flowers ; 
Love-thoughts lie rich, when canopied with bowers. 

T:K 11. 
In love, the heavens themselves do guide the state. 
Money buys lands, and wives are sold by fate. M. W. v. 5. 

I have done penance for contemning love ; 

Whose high imperious thoughts have punished me 

With bitter fasts, with penitential groans, 

With nightly tears, and daily heart-sore sighs, 

For in revenge of my contempt of love, 

Love hath chased sleep from my enthralled eyes. 

And made them watchers of mine own heart's sorrow, 


I know no ways to mince it in love, but directly to say, I 

love you ; then, if you urge me further than to say, Do you 

in faith ? I wear out my suit. Give me your answer ; i' 

faith do, and so clap hands, and a bargain. H. V- v. 2. 

She, sweet lady, dotes, 
Devoutly dotes, dote^ in idolatry. 
Upon this spotted and inconstant man. M. iV. i. 1 

So loving to my mother, 
That he might not boteem the winds of heaven, 
Visit her face too roughly. H. i. 2. 

Hang him, truant : there's no true drop of blood in him, 
to be truly touch'd with love : if he be sad, iie wants 
money. M.A. iii. ^ 

Lov lljiikfspnriiiit Birtinnartf. lov 

LO YE , — continued. 

Sweet love, I see, changing his property, 

Tunis to the sourest and most deadly hate. B. 11. iii. 2. 

It is the show and seal of nature's truth, 

Where love's strong passion is impressed in. youth. 

A. W. i. 3. 
To hear with eyes belongs to love's fine wit. Poems, 

I lov'd Ophelia ; forty thousand brothers 
Could not, with all their quantity of love, 
Make up my sum. H. v. 1. 

My love till death, my humble thanks, my prayers ; 
That love, which virtue begs, and virtue grants. 

H, VI. PT. III. iii. 2. 
Why, man, she is mine own ; 
And I as rich in Jiaving such a jewel. 
As twenty seas, if all their sands were pearl, 
The water, nectar, and the rocks pure gold. T. G. ii. 4. 

What dangerous action, stood it next to death, 

Would I not undergo for one calm look ? 

0, 'tis the curse in love, and still appro v'd, 

When women cannot love where they're beloved. T.G. v. 4. 

Go to ; it is a plague 
That Cupid will impose for my neglect 
Of his almighty dreadful little might. 
Well; I will love, write, sigh, pray, sue, and groan; 
Some men must love my lady, and some Joan. L. L. iii. x. 

Good Mistress Page, for that I love your daughter 

In such a righteous fashion as I do. 

Perforce, against all chocks, rebukes, and manners, 

I must advanco the colours of my love, 

And not retire. M.W. iii. 4. 

With adorations, and with fertile tears, 

With groans that thunder love, with sighs of fire. T. N. i. 5. 

II ow now ? 
Even so quickly may one catch the plague ? 
Methinks, I feel tills youth's p.orfectlons, 
With an invisible and subtle stealth. 
To creep in at mine 03^03. T. N. i. 5. 

A murd'rous guilt shows not itself more noon 

Than love that would seem hid ; love's night is soon. 

T. N. iii. 1. 
Fie, Pie ! how wayward is this foolish love. 
That, like a testy babe, will scratch the nursey 
And presently, all humbled, kiss the rod I T, G. i. 2. 

LOT lljalvtHjiMriaH l)irtiDiiEn|. lov 

LOVE, — continued. 

What ? do I love lier, 
That I desire to hear her speak again, 
And feast upon her eyes ? M.M. ii. 2. 

There's beggary in the love that can be reckon'd. 

±C\. 1. 
Drawn in the flattering table of her eye ! 
ilang'd in the frowning wrinkle of her brow ! 
And quartered in her heart! K. J. ii. 2. 

They are in the very wrath of love, and they will to- 
gether ; clubs cannot part them. A.Y. v. 2. 

Alas, that love, so gentle in his view, 

Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof! R. /. i. 1. 

Love will suspect whore is no cause of fear ; 

And there not fear where it should most distrust. Poems. 

Alas, that love, whose view is muffled still. 

Should, without eyes, see path-ways to his will! B. J. i. 1. 

Were I crown'd the most imperial monarch, 
Thereof most worthy ; were I the fairest youth 
That ever made eye swerve ; had force and knowledge, 
More than was ever man's, — I would not prize them, 
/ Without her love : for her, employ them all ; 

Commend them, and condemn them, to her service. 

Or to their own perdition. W. T. iv. 3. 

If thou be'st valiant, as (they say) base men, being in 
love, have then a n()l)ility in their natures, more than is 
native to them, — liston to mo. 0. ii. 1. 

1 saw Othello's visagsi in his mind ; 

And to his honours and his valiant parts, 

l)id I my soul and foi'tunes consecrate. 0. i. 3. 

Madam, you have Ijoroft me of all words, 

Only my blood speaks to you in my veins. M. V. iii. 2. 

Thou art most rich, being poor ; 
Most choice, f )rsaken ; and most lov'd, despis'd. 
Thee and thy virtues here I seize upon. K. L. i. 1. 

In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond; 
And therefore thou may'st think of my 'haviour light; 
But trust me, gentlemen, I'll prove more true ' 

Than those that have more cunning to be strange. 

R, J. ii. 2. 
Ah me ! how sweet is love itself possess'd. 
When but love's shadows are so rich in joy? R. J, "v. 1, 
Love's invisible soul. T,C. iii. 1. 

WY lljiilvBBpEariiiii I/irtinHurii;. lov 

LOT E , — continued. 

Her virtues, graced with external gifts, 

Do breed love's settled passions in mj heart. 

H. YL PT. I. V. 5. 
Ilis love was an eternal plant ; 
Whereof the root was lix'd in virtue's ground, 
The leaves and fruit maintain'd with beauty's sun, 

//. VL PT. III. iii. 3 

First you have learn'd like Sir Proteus, to wreath your 
arms, like a malecontent ; to relish a love-song, like a robin- 
red-breast ; to walk alone, like one that had the pestilence ; 
to sigh, like a school-boy that had lost his ABC; to weep, 
like a young wench that had buried her grandam ; to fast, 
like one that takes diet ; to watch, like one that fears rob- 
bing ; to speak puling-, like a begirar at Hallowmas. 

T.G. II. \, 
Holy St. Francis, what a change is here ! 
Is Kosaline, whom thou didst love so dear, 
So soon forsaken ? Young men's love then lies 
Not truly in their hearts, but in their eyes. 
Jcsu Maria ! what a deal of brine 
Hath wash'd thy sallow cliooks for Rosaline ! 
How much salt water thrown away in waste, 
To season love, that of it doth not taste ' 
T!io sun not yet thy sighs from heaven clears. 
Thy old groans ring yet in my anticnt ears ; 
Lo, here upon thy cheek the stain doth sit 
Ofnn old tear that is not wash'd oiF yet : 
If e'er thou wast thyself, and tliese woes thine, 
'f hou and these woes were all for ivosaline ; — 
And art thou chang'd ? . R. J, ii. 3. 

There lives within the very flame of love 

A kind of v/ick, or snuff, that will al)ate it: 

And nothing is at a like goodness still ; 

For goodness, growing to a pleurisy, 

Hies in its own too-much. II. iv. 7 

0, gentle Romeo, 
If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully 
Or if tliou think'st I am too quickly won, 
I'll frown, and be perverse, and say thee nay. 
So thou wilt woo: but, else, not for the world. B.J. iii. 2^ 
See, how she leans her chcfsk upon her hand 1 
O, that I wore a glove upon that hand, 

That I mi-ht touch that cheek 1 R J. ii. 2. 

She lov'd me for the dangers I had pass'd ; 
And I lov'd her that she did pity them. 0. i. 3. 

L07 |ljiikrij|itnriiiii BirtiniiErti. lov 

LOYE, — continued. 

Men have died from time to time, and worms have eaten 
them, but not for love. A. Y. iv. 1. 

Ay, but hearken, Sir ; though the cameleon love can feed 
on the air, I am one that am nourished by my victuals, and 
would fain have meat. T. G. ii. 1. 

Love is your master, for he masters you : 
And he that is so yoked by a fool 

Should' st not, methinks, be chronicled for wise. T. G i. 1. 
If it prove so, then loving goes by haps ; 
Some Cupids kill with arrows, some with traps. 

M. A. iii. 1. 
For now my love is thaw'd ; 
Which, like a waxen image Against a fire, 
Bears no impression of the thing it was. T. G. ii. 4. 

A7ith love's light wings did I o'er-perch these walls ; 
For stony limits cannot hold love out. R. J. ii. 2. 

Tut, man! one lire ])urns out another's burning, 
One pain is lessen'd by another's anguish ; 

Turn gi'My, and be liolp by backward turning; 
One desperate grief cures with another's languish: 

Take thou some now infection to th}" e^'C, 

And the rank poison of the old will die. R. J", i. 3. 

How silver-sweet sound lovers' tongues by night, 

Like softest music to attending ears ! R.J. ii. 2, 

0, ten times faster Wmus' ]v<geons fly 

To seal love's bonds new made, than tliey are wont 

To keep oldiged faith unforfeited. il/". F. ii. 6. 

Time goes on crutehes till love have all his rites. 

M. A. ii. I, 

The wound's invisible 

That love's keen arrows make. A.Y. iii. 5. 

Love is not love when it is mingled with regards that 

stand aloof from the entire point. A''. L.'i.l. 

Dove-drawn Venus. T. iv. 1. 

One woman is fair; 3'et I am vrcll : another is wise ; 3^et 
I am well : another is virtUDUs ; yet' I am well : but till all 
graoes be in one wcanan, one vroman shall not come .into 
my grace, llich she Av:\\\ be, t^iat's certain ; wise, or I'll 
n<ine ; virtuous, or 111 never cheap^en Iser; fair, or Pil 
never look on lier ; mild, or come m)t near me ; nobde, or 
not I [()!■ ail angel: of good discourse, an excellent musi- 
dan, and her hair shall be (»f what colour it please God. 


217 19 

Lov |Ijri!ttH|iurinii Sirtinuanf. lov 

LOVE, Eternity of. 

So that eternal love in love's fresh case, 
Weighs not the dust and injuries of age, 
Nor gives to necessary wrinkles place, 
But makes antiquities for aye his page : 
Finding the first conceit of love there bred, 
Where time and outward forms would show it dead. 


' Letter. 

As much love in rhyme. 
As would he cramm'd up in a sheet of paper. 
Writ on both sides the leaf, margent and all ; 
That he was fain to seal in Cupid's name. L. L. v. 2. 

She makes it strange ; but she would be best pleas'd 
To be so anger'd with another letter. T. G, i. 2 

's Messengers. 

Love's heralds should be thoughts. 
Which ten times faster glide than the sun^s beams, 
Driving back shadows over lowering hills. E, J. ii. 5 

LOVERS' Poetry. 

Speak but one rhyme and I am satisfied ; 
Cry but, — Ah me ! couple but — love and dove* JR. J. ii. 1. 
Woo in rhyme, like a blind harper's song. L. L, v. 2. 

But are you so much in love as your rhymes speak ? 

■ Tokens. 

AVear this from me ; one out of suits with fortune, 
That could give more, but that her hand lacks means. 

But she so loves the token, 
(For he conjur'd her she would ever keep it,) 
That she reserves it evermore about her, 
To kiss and talk to. 0. iii. 3. 

Sooth, when I was young. 
And handed love, as you do, I was wont 
To load my she with knacks ; I would have ransack'd 
The pedlar's silken treasury, and have pour'd it 
To her acceptance. W.T, iv. 3. 

Take these again ; for, to the noble mind. 

Rich gifts wax poor, when givers prove unkind. H. iii. 1 

■'s Vows (See also Oaths). 

Ay, springes to catch wood-cocks. I do know. 
When the blood burns, how prodigal the soul 
Lends the tongue vovvs : these blazes, daughter, 

Lov IlialtHpriiriiiii l)irtiniiiin[. lov 

LOVER'S Vows, — continued. 

Giving more light than heat, — extinct in both, 

Even in their promise, as it is a making, — 

You must not take for fire. H, i. 3. 

I swear to thee by Cupid's strongest bow ; 

By his best arrow with the golden head ; 

By the simplicity of Venus' doves ; 

By that which knitteth souls and prospers loves ; 

And by that fire which burn'd the Carthage queen, 

When the false Trojan under sail was seen ; 

By all the vows that ever men have broke, 

In number more than ever woman spoke ; — 

In that same place thou hast appointed me, 

To-morrow truly will I meet with thee. M. iV. i. 1. 

Yet, if thou swear' st, 
Thou may'st prove false ; at lovers' vows, 
They say, Jove laughs. R. J. ii. 2. 

Lady, by yonder blessed moon I swear, 
That tips with silver all these fruit-tree tops. B, J. ii. 2. 

Swearing, till my very roof was dry 
With oaths of love. M. V, iii. 2. 

Doubt thou the stars are fire ; 

Doubt that the sun doth move : 
Doubt truth to be a liar ; 

But never doubt I love. H. ii. 2. 

Do not swear at all; 

Or, if thou wilt, sAvear by thy gracious self, 

Which is the god of my idolatry, 

And ril believe thee. R. J. ii. 2. 

Was is not w ; besides, the oath of a lover is no stronger 
than the word of a tapster ; they are both the confirmers 
of false reckonings. A.Y. iii. 4. 

Stealing her soul with many vows of faith, 

And ne'er a true one. M. V. v. L 

That*suck'd the honey of his music vows. H. iii. 1. 

0, men's vows are women's traitors. . Cyin. iii. 4. 


She is full of most blessed conditions. 0. ii. 1. 

Diana's lip 
Is not more smooth and rubious. T. K, i. 4, 

Of Nature's gifts thou may'st with lilies boast, 

And with the half-blown rose. K, J. iii. 1 


Lov Ijiak^BjiMriiiii SirtinHntt}. mad 

Shot, by heaven ! Proceed, sweet Cupid ; thou hast 
thump'd him with thy bird-bolt under the loft pap. 

L. L. iv. 3. 

Alas, poor Romeo, he is already dead ; stabbed with a 
white w*ench's black eye ; shot through the ear with a love- 
son<:^; the very pin of his heart cleft with the blind bow- 
boy's butt-shaft. B. J. ii. 4. 


• You're a made old man ; if the sins of your youth are 

forgiven you, you're well to live. Gold ! all gold ! 

W.T. iii. 3 


Yet I do fear thy nature ; 
It is too full o' the milk of human kindness, 
To catch the nearest way : Thou would'st be great ; 
Art not without ambition ; but without 
The illness should attend it. What thou would'st highly, 
That w^ould'st thou holily ; would'st not pLay false, 
And yet would'st wrongly win ; thou'dst have, great Ghimis, 
That which cries, " Thus thou must do, if thou have it; 
And that which rather thou dost fear to do 
Than wishest should be undone.^' ' M. i. 5. 


Why, what a mad-cap hath heaven lent us here ! K. J. i. 1. 
Well, then, once in my days I'll be a mad-cap. 

E.IV. PT. I. i. 2. 

MADNESS (See also Despondency, Derangement). 
Your noble son is mad: 
Mad, call I it : for, to define true madness, 
AYhat is't, but to be nothing else but mad ? H. ii. 2. 

A sight most pitiful in the meanest wretch -, 
Past speaking of in a king. K. L. iv. 6. 

And he repulsed, (a short tale to make,) 
Fell into a sadness, then into a fjist ; 
Thence to a watch ; thence into a weakness ; 
Thence tu a lightness : and, by this declension, 
Into the madness wherein now he raves. H. ii, 2« 

Alack, 'tis he ; why, he was met even now 
As mad as the vex'd sea ; singing aloud ; 
Crown'd with rank fumitor, and furrow weeds. 

MAD |!ji!vi;n]uariiiii Siriiuiiiinj. mad 

AVith liarddeks, hemlock, nettles, ciickoo-flowerg, 

Darnel, and all the idle ^veeds that grow 

In our su-itainiug corn. K. X. iv. 4. 

Oh, he is more mad 
Than Telamon for Iiis shield ; the boar of Thessaly 
Was never so imbost. A.C. iv. H. 

0, \Adiat a noble mind is here o'erthroAvn I 

The courtier's, soldier's, scholar's eye, toiigue, sword : 

The expectancy and rose of the fair state, 

The glass of fashion, and the mouM of form. 

The observ'd of all observers; nuite, (juite down. 

And I, of ladies most deject and wretched, 

That suck'd thic honey of his music vows, 

iVow see that soverei,L!:;n and most nojjle reason, 

Like sweet Jjells jangled, out of tum^ and harsh ; 

Tliat unmatch'd form and feaLure of bloA\n youth, 

Dlasted with ecstacy : 0, woe is me ! 

To have seen wluit 1 have seen, see wluit I see ! H. iii. 1 

This is mere madness : 
And thus awhile the fit wdl work on him; 
Anon, as patient as the female dove, 
When that her golden Ci an dots arii disclosM, > 
His silence will sit drooping. II. v. i. 

Essentially mad, without seeming so. H. IV. ft. i. ii. 4. 

She speaks much of her fiither ; says, she hears, 

There's tricks i' the world ; and hems, and beats her heart; 

Spurns enviously at straws ; speaks things in doubt, 

That carry but half sense : her speech is nothing, 

Yet the unshaped use of it, doth move 

The hearers to collection. II. iv. 5. 

let me not be mad, not mad, sweet heaven ! 

Keep me in temper ; I would not be mad I . K. L. i. 5. 

How pregnant sometimes his replies are! a happiness 
that often madness hits on, which reason and sanity couhl 
not so prosperously Ije delivered ofl II. ii. 2. 

^ It is the very error of the moon ; 

She comes more near the earth than she was wont ; 

iVnd makes men mad. 0. v. 2. 

0, matter and impertinency mix'd ! 

Keason in madness ! K. L. iv. 6 

That he is mad, 'tis true ; His true, 'tis pity ; 

And pity 'tis, 'tis true. H. ii. 2. 

Mad woi'ld, mad kings, mad compooition. K.J. ii. 2. 

MAD |}jnlvfs]it{iriiiii Sirtinimni, ^^^^^ 

MADNESS,— co7i/m?iefZ. 

I am as mad as he, 
If sad and merry madness equal be. T. N. iii. 4. 

prince, I conjure thee, as thou believ'st 
There is anothbr comfort than this world, 
That thou neglect me not, with that opinion 

That I am touchM with madness. . M, M. v. 1. 

It is not madness, 
Tliat I have utter' d : bring me to the test, 
And I the matter will re-word ; which madness 
Would gambol from. H. iii. 4. 

Madness in great ones must not unwatch'd go. H. iii. 1. 
■ , Methodical. 

By mine honesty, 
If she be mad, (as I believe no other,) 
Iler madness hath the oddest frame of sense, 
Such a dependency of thing on thing, 
As e'er I heard in madness. M. M. v. 1 


Our spoils he kick'd at ; 
And look'd upon things precious, as they were 
The common muck o'the world: he covets less 
1'han misery itself would give ; rewards 
Ills deeds with doing them ; and is content 
To spend the time to end it. C. ii. 2. 

• Had I great Juno's power, 
The strong-wing'd Mercury should fetch thee up. 
And set thee by Jove's side. A.C. iv. 13. 

Your honours'pardon ; 

1 had rather have my wounds to heal again, 

Than hear say how I got them. C. ii. 2. 

I had rather have one to scratch my head i' the sum, 

When the alarum was struck, than idly sit 

To hear my nothings monster'd. C. ii. 2. 

lie had rather venture all his limbs for honour, 

Than one of his ears to hear it. C. ii. 2. 

Bettering thy loss makes the bad causer worse ; 

Kevolving this will teach thee hoAV to curse. R. III. iv. 4. 

And those that leave their valiant bones in France, 

Dying like men, though buried in your dunghills, 

They shall be fam'd ; for there the sun shall greet them. 

And draw their honours reeking up to heaven. H. V. iv. 3. 

If we are marked to die, we are enough 

To do our country loss ; and if to live. 

The fewer men, the greater share of honour. H. V, iv. 3. 


MAG lifiiltJspEriiiii l)irtiniian[. max- 

MAGl^ A'NIMITY, ^-continued. 

! the blood more stirs, 
To rouse a lion than to start a hare. ff. IV. pt. i. i. 3. 

Mj noble girls ! — Ah, women, women ! look, 
Our lamp is spent, its out : Good Sirs, take heart : 
We'll bury him : and then, what's brave, what's noble, 
Let's do it after the high Roman fashion, 
And make death proud to take us. A*C. iv. 13, 

Tlis valour, shown upon our crests to-day, 
Hath taught us how to cherish such high deeds, 
Even in the bosom of our adversaries. H, IV. ft. i. v. 5, 


I have misused the king's press damnably. 

R. IV. PT. I. iv. 2 


All the charms 
Of Sycorax, toads, beetles, bats, light on you. T. i. 2 

The common curse of mankind, folly and ignorance, be 
thine in great revenue ! heaven bless thee from a tutor, and 
discipline come not near thee ! Let thy blood be thy di- 
rection till thy death ! then if she, that lays thee out, says, 
thou art a fair corse, I'll be sworn, and sworn upon't, she 
never shrouded any but lazars. Amen. 1\0. ii. 3. 

You nimble lightnings, dart your blinding flames 
Into her scornful eyes ! Infect her beauty, 
You fen-suck'd fogs, draw^n by the powerful sun, 
To f\xll and blast her pride ! K. L. ii. 4. 

Feed not thy sovereign's foe, my gentle earth, 
Nor, Avith thy sweets, comfort his ravenous sense : 
But let th}^ spiders, that suck up thy venom, 
And heavy gaited toads, lie in their way ; 
Doing annoyance to the treacherous feet, 
Which with usurping steps do trample thee. 
Yield stinging nettles to mine enemies ; 
And vv'lien they from thy bosom pluck a flower, 
Guard it I pray thee, with a lurking adder. R. II. iii. 2. 
As wicked dew, as e'er my mother brush'd. 
With raven's feather, from unwholesome fen, 
Drop on you both : a south-west blow on ye, 
And blister you all o'er. T. i. 2. 

Richard yet lives, hell's black intelligencer ; 
Only reserv'd their factor to buy souls. 
And send them thither : But at hand, at hand, 
Ensues his piteous and unpitied end ; 
Earth' gapes, hell burns, fiends roar, saints pray, 

MAL IlialtBsptiixiiin DirtinuErii, mal 

MAJjEpiCTlON, —continued. 

To have him suddenly conveyM from hence ; 

Cancel his bond of life, dear God, I pray. 

That I may live to say — The dog is dead ! B. III. iv. 4, 

The plaf^ue of Greece upon thee, thou mongrel beef-witted 
lord! T.C.iiA, 

Hear, Nature, hear ; dear goddess, hear ! 
* ^ ^ Suspend thy purpose, if 

Thou didst intend to make this creature fruitful ! 
■^ * * If she must teem, 

Create her child of spleen ; that it may live 
And be a thv^art disnatur'd»torment to her! 
Let it stamp wrinkles on- her brow of youth ! 
With cadent tears fret channels in her cheeks ; 
Turn all her mother's pains and benefits 
To laughter and contempt ; that she may feel 
How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is 
To have a thankless child ! K. L. i. 4. 

The worm of conscience still be-gnaw thy soul ! 

Thy friends suspect for traitors wliilst thou liv'st, 

And take deep traitors for thy dearest friends ! 

No sleep close up that deadly eye of thine, 

Unless it be while some tormenting dream 

AflVights thee with a hell of ugly devils 1 R, III. i. 3. 

You taught me language ; and my profit on't 

Is, I know how to curse : the red plague rid you 

For learning me your language. T. i. 2. 

Now the red pestilence strike all trades in Rome, 

And occupations perish ! (7. iv. 1. 

All the stor'd vengeance of heaven fall 

On her ingrateful top ! Strike her young bones. 

You taking airs with lameness ! K, L. ii. 4. 

If heaven have any grievous plague in store, 

Exceeding those that I can wish upon thee, 

(), let them keep it till thy sins be ripe, • 

And then hurl down their indignation 

On thee, the troubler of the poor world's peace. R. iii. .^. 

Now, all the plagues that in the pendulous air 
Hang f\ited o'er men's fiiults, light on thy daughters. 

a: l. iii. 4, 

A plagUL upon your epileptic visage. K. L, ii, 2. 

Let this pernicious hour 
Stand aye accursed in the calendar! M. iv. 1, 

All the infections that the sun sucks up, 


MAL |ljiiItBH|iEiiriiiii fiirtintmrt}. man 

MALEDICTION,— cowtim^e^^. 

From bogs, fens, flats, on Prosper fall, and make him 

By inch-meal a disease ! T, ii. 2. 

If ever he have child, abortive be it, 

Prodigious, and untimely brought to light, 

Whose ugly and unnatural aspect 

May fright the hopeful mother at the view ; 

And that be heir to his unhappiness. B. III. i. 2. 

Dower'd with our curse, and stranger'd with an oath. K.L. i. 1. 
Why, thou damnable box of envy, thou, what meanest 

thou, to curse thus. T.C. v. 1. 


Had I power, I should 

Pour the sweet milk of concord into hell, 

Uproar the universal peace, confound 

All unity on earth. M, iv. 3. 

I will fight 

Against my canker'd country, with the spleen 

Of all the under fiends. C. iv. 5. 


Men, that make 
Envy, and crooked malice nourishment, 
Dare bite the best, H. VIIL v. 2. 


A dagger of the mind ; a false creation, 
•Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain. M. ii. 1. 

MAN (See also Illusion, Life, Death). 

What a piece of work is man ! How noble in reason ! 
how infinite in faculties ! in form, and moving, how express 
and admirable ! in action, how like an angel ! in apprehen- 
sion, how like a god ! the beauty of the world ! the para- 
gon of animals ! 11^ ii. 2. 
They say, best men are moulded out of faults, 
And, for the most, become much more the better. 
For being a little bad. M. M. v. 1 
Ay, in the catalogue ye go for men; 
As hounds, and greyhounds, mongrels, spaniels, curs,' 
Shoughs, water-rugs, and demi-wolves are clep'd, 
All by the name of dogs : the valued file 
Distinguishes the SAvift, the slow, the subtle, 
The house-keeper, the hunter, every one 
According to the gift which bounteous Nature 
Hath in him clos'd ; whereby he doth receive 
Particular addition, from the bill 
That writes them all alike: and so of men. M. iii. 1. 

MAN |f)akrQ|irarinii SirtinnEttf* man 

MAN, — continued, 

We came crying hither. K. L. iv. 6. 

Lord, we know what we are, but know not what we may 
be. H. iv. 0. 

Know thou this : — that men 
Are as the time is. K, L, v. 3. 

momentary grace of mortal men, 
Which we more hunt for than the grace of God ! 
Who builds his hope in air of your fair looks 
Lives like a drunken sailor on a mast ; 
Ready, with every nod, to tumble down 
Into the fatal bowels of the deep. B. III. iii. 4. 

This was the noblest Roman of them all : 

All the conspirators, save only he. 

Did that they did in envy of great Coesar ; 

lie, only, in a general honest thought, 

And common good to all, made one of them. 

His life was gentle ; and the elements 

So mix'd in him, that nature might stand up, 

And say to all the world. This was a man! J.C v. 5. 

Is man no more than this ? K. L. iii. 4. 

A breath thou art, 
(Servile to all the skiey influences). 
That dost this habitation, where thou keep'st. 
Hourly afflict ; merely, thou art death's fool ; 
For him thou labour'st by thy flight to shun, 
And yet runn'st toward him still : Thou art not noble: 
For all the accommodations that thou bear'st, 
Are nurs'd by baseness : Thou art by no means valiant ; 
For thou dost fear the soft and tender fork 
Of a poor worm : Thy best of rest is sleep. 
And that thou oft provok'st ; ye-t grossly fear'st 
Thy death, which is no more. Thou art not thyself; 
For thou exist'st on many a thousand grains 
That issue out of dust: Happy thou art not; 
For what thou hast not, still thou striv'st to get : 
And what thou hast, forget'st : Thou art not certain ; 
Tor thy complexion shifts to strange effects, 
After the moon : If thou art rich, thou art poor ; 
For, like an ass, whose back with ingots bows, 
Thou bear'st thy heavy riches but a journey, 
Till death unloads thee : Friend hast thou none ; 
For thine own bowels, which do call thee sire, 
The mere effusion of thy proper loins. 
Do curse the gout, serpigo, and the rheum, • 

For ending thee no sooner : Thou hast nor youth, nor agi^ \ 

MAN lljakrHpurinn Dittiniiari|. man 

M A N , — continued, 

But, as it; were, an after-dinner's sleep, 

Dreaming on both ; for all thy blessed youth 

Becomes as a,.i;ed, and does beg the alms 

Of palsied eld ; and when thou art old, and rich, 

Thou hast neither heat, affection, limb, nor beauty, 

To make thy riches pleasant. What^s yet in tliis, 

That bears the name of life ? Yet in this life 

Lie hid more thousand deaths : yet death we fear, 

That makes these odds all even. M. M. iii. 1. 

■ Foolish wench ! 
To the most of men this is a Caliban, 
And they to him are angels. T. i. 2, 

the difference of man and man ! K. L. iv. 2. 
God made him, therefore let him pass for a man. M. V. i. 2. 

There is no trust, 
No faith, no honesty in men ; all perjur'd, 
All forsworn, all naught, all dissemblers. B.J. iii. 2. 

A rarer spirit never 
Did steer humanity ; but you, gods, will give us 
Some faults to make iis men. A. C. v. 1. 

AVhen we are born, we cry, that we are come 
To this great stage of fools. K. L. iv. 6. 

He was not borai to shame: 
Upon his brow shame is ashamed to sit; 
For 'tis a throne where honor may be crownM 
Sole monarch of the universal earth. E, J. iii. 2. 

lie was a man, take him for all in all, 

1 shall not look upon his like again. H. i. 2. 

You rogue, here's lime in this sack too : There is nothing 
but roguery to be found in villainous man. 

H. IV, PT. I. ii. 4. 
Every man is odd. T. C. iv. 5. 

Who lives, that's not 
Depraved, or depraves ? who dies, that bears 
Not one spurn to their graves of their friends' gift ? 

T. A. i 2. 
Man is a giddy thing, and this is my conclusion. 

M. A. V. 4. 
MANHOOD Deteriorated. 

But manhood is melted into courtesies, valour into com- 
pliment, and men are turned into tongue, and trim onea 
too : he is now as valiant as Hercules that only tells a lie, 
and swears to it. M. A. iv. 1, 


MAN lliflltrijirBiiriiiii Sirtinnnni. mak 

MANHOOD Deteriorated, — continued. 

Go thy ways, old Jack ; die when thou wilt, if manhood, 
p;ood manhood, be not forgot upon the face of the earth, 
then am I a shotten herring. H. IF. pt. i. ii. 4. 


I once did hold it, as our statists do, 

A baseness to write fair, and laboured much 

How to furget that learning ; but, sir, now 

It did me yeoman's service. II. v. 2. 

MAIIRIAGE (See also Espousal). 

A contract of eternal bond of love, 

Confirmed by mutual joinder of your hands, 

Attested by the holy close of lips, 

Strengthened by interchangement of your rings ; 

And all the corcmooy of this compact 

Seal'd in my function by my lestunony. T. N. v. 1, 

Marriage is a matter of more -VT'orth 

Than to be dealt in by attorneysliip. 

For what is wedlock forced, but a hell, 

An age of discord and continual strife ? 

Whereas the contrary ])ringeth forth bliss, 

And is a pattern of celestial peace. H. VL pt. i. v. 5. 

Earthlier happ}^ is the rose distill'd. 
Than that, which, withering on the virgin thorn, 
Grows, lives, and dies, in single blessedness. M. iV. i. 1. 
She's not well married, that lives married long ; 
But she's best married, that dies married young. 

E. J. iv. 5. 
Pale primroses, 
That die unmarried, ere they can behold 
Bright Phoebus in his strength, a malady 
Most incident to maids. W. T. iv. 3 

But, mistress, know yourself; down on your knees. 
And thank heaven, fisting, for a good man's love : 
For I must tell you friendly in your ear, — 
Sell when you can ; you are not for all markets. 

A. Y. iii. 5 

MARRIAGES, Mercenary. 

The hearts of old, gave hands ; 
But our new heraldry is — hands, not hearts. 0. iii. 4 


This guest of summer. 
The temple-hunting martlet, does approve, 
By his lov'd mansionry, that the heaven's breath, 
Smells wooingly here : no jutty, frieze, buttress, 

MAR lljnlvi^HiiritriEii Dirtiniiunt. mee 


Nor coigne of 'v;iuta,ii;e, but tliLs bird hath made 

His pendent bed, and procreant cradle : Where they 

MostJjreed and haunt, I have observed the air 

Is delicate. M. i. C. ' 

The martlet 
Builds in the weather on the outward wall, 
Even in the force and road of casualty. M. V. ii. 9. 

MASKED Ladies. 

Fair ladies, masked, are roses in their bud: 

Dismaslv'd, their damask sweet commixture shown, 

Are an^o'els veiling clouds, or roses blown. X. L. v. 2. 


Mellow'd by the stealing hours of time. JR. III. iii. 7. 


Unquiet meals make ill digestions. C. E. v. 1. 


Take our good meaning; for our judgment sits 

Five times in that, ere once in our five wits, B. J. i. 4, 


-'TIS dangerous, when the ])aser nature comes 
Between the pass and fell incensed points 
Of mighty oppositcs. H. v. 2. 

Thou wretched, rash, intruding fool ; farewell ! 
I took thee for thy ])etter ; take thy fortune : 
Thou find'st, to be too busy, is some danger. H. iii. 4. 

Why, the devil, came you between us ? I was hurt under 
your arm. R. J. iii. 1. 


I was hardly moved to come to thee : but being assured 
none but myself could move thee, I have been blown out 
of your gates with sighs ; and conjure thee to pardon Rome, 
and thy petitionary countrymen. C. v. 2. 


Measuring, his affections by my oayu, 

That most are busied when they're most alone. R. J. i. 1. 


'Beseech your majesty, 
Forbear sharp speeches to her : she's a lady 
So tender of rebukes, that words are strokes, 
And strokes death to her. Oym. iii. 5 


Here is like to be a great presence of worthies. L. L. v. 2. 

MEL III I'n^'-^nrariiTii Sirtinimrir, mel 

MELANCHOLY (See also Despondency, Madness). 

Melancholy is the nurse of frenzy. T. S. Ind. 2. 

Thick-ey'd musing, and curs'd melancholy. H.IV. pt. i. ii. 3. 
Besieged with sable-coloured melancholy. §L. L. i. 1 

The sad companion, dull-ey^d melancholy. P. P. i. 2. 

I am wrappM in dismal thinkings. A, W. v. 3. 

Chanting faint hymns to the cold fruitless moon. M.K. i. 1. 

My cue is yillanous melancholy, with a sigh like Tom o' 
Bedlam. K. L. i. 2. 

I have of late (hut wherefore I know not) lost all my 
mirth, foregone all custom of exercises : and, indeed, it goes 
so heavily with my disposition, that this goodly frame, the 
earth, scorns to me a sterile promontory ; this most excel- 
lent canopy, the air, look you, this brave o'erhanging 
firmamont, this nuvestical roof fretted with golden lire, 
why, it appears no other thing to me, than a foul and pesti- 
lent congregation of vapours. JL ii. 2. 
Melancholy as a lover's lute. H. IV. pt. i. i. 2. 

Boy, what sign is it, when a man of great spirit grov s 
melancholy ? , L. L. i. 2. 

We have been up and down to seek for thee ; for we are 
high proof melancholy, and would fain have it beaten away : 
Wilt thou use thy wit ? M. A. v. L 

I have neither the scholar's melancholy, which is emula- 
tion ; nor the musician's, which is fantastical ; nor the 
courtier's, which is proud ; nor the soldier's, which is am- 
bitious ; nor the lawyer's, which is politic ; nor the lady's, 
w^hich is nice ; nor the lover's, which is all these ; but it is 
a melancholy of mine own, compounded of many simplen, 
extracted from many objects : and, indeed, the sundry con- 
templation of my travels, in which my often rumination 
wraps me, is a most humorous sadness. A.Y. iv. 1. 

Why, he will look upon his boot, and sing ; mend the ruff, 
and sing ; ask questions, and sing ; pick his teeth, and sing: 
I knew a man that had this trick of melancholy, sold a 
goodly manor for a song. A. W, iii. 2. 

Would the fountain of your mind were clear again, that 
I might water an ass at it. T. C. iii. 3. 

There's something in his soul, 
O'er which his melanclioly sits on brood ; 
And, I do doubt, the hatch, and the disclose, 
Will be some danger. H. iii. 1» 

0, melancholy ! 
Who ever jet .could sound thy bottom ? find 

MEL |Ii{iitB5|iriitinn Birtiniiiirt[. mer 

MELANCHOLY,— co7i/m?/e(i 

The ooze, to show what coast thy sluggish crare 

Might easiest harbour in ? Cym, iv. 2. 

MEMORY, THE Stores of the (See also Eemembrance). 

This is a gift that I have, simple, simple; a foolish extra- 
yagant spirit, full of forms, figures, shapes, objects, ideas, 
apprehensions, motions, revolutions: these are begot in the 
ventricle of memory, nourished in the worab of pia mater, 
and delivered upon the mellowing of occasion. 

X. X. iv. 2. 

MEN, Destroyer of. 

Cannibally given. C iv. 5. 


Sir, for a quart d'ecu he will sell th.e fee-simple of his 
salvation, the inheritance of it ; and cut the entail from all 
remainders. A. W. iv. 3. 

0, dishonest wretch ! 
Wilt thou be made a man out of my vice ! M. M. iii. 1. 

fie, fie, fie ! 
Thy sin's not accidental, but a trade. 31. 31. iii. 1. 

Think'st thou, I'll endanger my soul gratis f M. JV. ii. 2. 


Your mind is tossing on the ocean ; 

There, where your argosies with portly sail. 

Like signiors and rich burghers of the flood, 

Or, as it were, the pageants of the sea, — 

Do overpeer the petty traffickers, 

That curt'sy to them, do them reverence, 

As they fly by them with their woven wings. if. F. i. L 


Wilt thou draw near the nature of the gods ? 

Dra% near them then in being merciful : 

Sweet mercy is nobility's true badge. Tit. And, i. 2, 

The quality of mercy is not strain'd ; 

It droppeth, as the gentle rain from heaven, 

Upon the place beneath : it is twice bless'd ; 

It blesseth him that gives, and him that takes • 

^Tis mightiest in the mightiest ; it becomes 

The throned monarch better than his crown : 

His sceptre shows the force of temporal power. 

The attribute to awe and majesty. 

Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings ; 

But mercy is above this sceptred sway, 

It is enthroned in the heart of kings, 

It is an attribute to God himself: 

MER |Ijakrs]irariEn Birtinnattf. mer 

MERCY, — continued. 

And earthly pow'r doth then show likest God's, 

When mercy seasons justice. M. V. iv. 1. 

Alas ! alas ! 
Why, all the souls that are, were forfeit once ; 
And He that might th' advantage best have took, 
Found out the remedy: How would you be, 
If He, who is the top of judgment, should 
}5ut judge you as you are? 0, think on that; 
And mercy then will breathe within your lips, 
Like man new made. M M. ii. 2. 

I am an humble suitor to your virtues ; 
For pity is the virtue of the law, 
And none but tyrants use it cruelly. T. A. iii. 5. 

If little faults, proceeding on distemper, 
Shall not be wink'd at, how shall we stretch our eye, 
When capital crimes, chew'd, swallowM, and digested, 
Appear before us ? //. V. ii. 2. 

Press not a falling man too far ; 'tis virtue : 

His faults lie open to the laws ; let them, 

Not you, correct him. H. YIII. iii. 2. 

Well, believe this ; 
No ceremony that to great ones 'longs. 
Not the king's crown, nor the deputed sword. 
The marshal's truncheon, nor the judge's robe, 
Become them with one half so good a grace, 
As mercy does. M. M, ii. 2. 

Lawful mercy is 
Nothing akin to foul redemption. M. M. ii. 4. 

Though justice be thy plea, consider this: — 
That in the course of justice, none of us 
Should see salvation: we do pray for mercy; 
And that same prayer doth teach us all to render 
The deeds of mercy. M, V. iv. I. 

Mercy is not itself that oft looks so ; 

Pardon is still the nurse of second woe. M. M. ii. 1. 

You must not dare, for shame, to talk of mercy ; 
For your own reasons turn into your bosoms, 
As dogs upon their masters, worrying them. H. V. ii. 2. 


There is more owing her than is paid ; and more shall 
be paid her than she'll demand. A. W, i. 3. 

You see, my good wenches, how men of merit are sought 
after. iT.IF. pt. ii- ii. 4. 

MER IjinlttHpariflii Sirtinnorii. mes 

MEEIT, — continued. 

Thou art so far before, 
That swiftest wing of recompense is slow 
To overtake thee. Jf. L 4. 


Better it is to die, better to starve, . 

Than crave the hire which first we do deserve. C, ii. 3. 

MERRY Wives. 

Wives may be merry, and yet honest too. M. W. iv. 2. 

MESSENGER (See also New-s). 

The first bringer of unAvelcome news 
Hath but a losing office ; and his tongue 
Sounds ever after as a sullen bell, 

Remember'd knolling a dc^parted friend. H. IV. pt. ii. i. 1. 
Though it be honest; it> is never good 
I'o bring bad news: Give to a gracious message 
A host of tongues ; but let ill tidings tell 
Themselves, when they be felt. A.C. ii.5. 

Here is a dear and true industrious friend. 
Sir Walter Bhumt, new lighted from his horse, 
Stain'd with the variation of each soil 
Betwixt that Ilolmedon, and this seat of ours ; 
And he hath brought us- smooth and welcome news. 

M. IV. PT. I. i. 1. 
I have not seen 
So likely an ambassador of love ; 
A day in April never came so sweet. 
To show how costly summer was at hand. 
As this fore-spurrer comes before his lord. M. V. ii. 9. 

Be thou as lightning in the e3^es of France ; 
For ere thou canst report, I will be there ; 
The thunder of my cannon shall be heard. K. J. i. 1. 

Why, he is dead. 
See what a ready tongue suspicion hath ! 
lie, that but fears the thing be would not know, 
Hath, by instinct, knowledge from others' eyes. 
That which he fear'd is chanc'd. Yet speak, Morton, 
Toll thou thy earl, his divination lies ; 
And I will take it as a sweet disgrace ; 
And make thee rich for doing me much wrong. 

H. IV. PT. II. i. 1. 
How doth my son, and brother ? 
Thou tremblest, and the Avhiteness in thy cheek 
Is apter than thy tongue to tell thy errand. 
Even such a man, so faint, so spiritless, 

23;] 20* 

MEs lljakrspiiriiiii Sirtinnnn}. mig 

MESSENGER,— co??./m?«ecZ. 

So dull, so dead in look, so woc-begone. 

Drew Priam's curtain in the dead of night, 

And would have told him, half his Troy was burn'd ; 

But Priam found the fire, ere he his tongue, ♦ 

And I my Percy's death, ere thou report'st it. 

This thou would' st say, — Your son did thus, and thus ; 

Your brother thus ; so fought the noble Douglas; 

Stopping my greedy ear with their bold deeds ; 

But in the end, to stop mine ear indeed, 

Thou hast a sigh to blow away this praise, 

Ending with — brother, son, and all are dead. 

H. IF, FT. II. i. 1. 
Y^ea, this man's brow, like to a title leaf, 
Foretells the nature of a tragic volume ; 
So looks the strong, whereon the imperial flood 
Ilath left a witness'd usurpation. 
Say, Morton, didst thou come from Shrewsburv ? 


Pr'ythee, say on ; 
The setting of thine eye, and cheek, proclaim 
A matter from thee ; and a birth, indeed, 
Which throes thee much to yield. T. ii. 1. 

If thou speak'st false, 
Upon the next tree shalt thou hang alive, 
Till famine cling thee ; if thy speech be sooth, 
I care not if thou dost for me as much. M. v. 5 

MIGHTY Dead (See also Life, Death, Man, Fallen Greatness). 
Here none but soldiers, and Rome's servitors, 
llepose in f\ime. Tit, And. i. 2. 

— Antony. 

His legs bestrid the ')cean : his rear'd arm 

Crested the world ; Ins voice was propertied 

As all the tuned spheres, and that to friends ; 

But when he meant to quail and shake the orb, 

He was as rattling thunder. For his bounty. 

There was no winter in't. A.C, v. 2. 

In his livery 
Walk'd crowns and crownets ; realms and islands were 
As plates dropp'd from his pockets. . A.C. v. 2. 

The death of Antony 
IS not a single doom ; in the name lay 
Anioietyof the world. A.C, v. 1. 

'• Duke of BEDroRD. 

But yet, betore we go, let's not forget 


MiG Ijinltrspnirimi Birtintiani. mig 

MIGHTY Deid,— continued. 

The noble Duke of Bedford, late deceased, 

But see his exequies fulfiird in Rolien; 

A braver soldier never couched lance, 

A gentler heart did never sway in court: 

But kin£!;s and mightiest potentates must die: 

For that^s the end of human misery. H. VL pt. i. ill, 2. 

■ Brutus. 

Free from the bondage you are in, Messala ; 

The conquerors can but make a fire of him ; 

For Brutus only overcame himself, 

And no man else hath honour by his death. J, C. v. 5. 

According to his virtue let us use him, 

With all respect and rites of burial. 

Within my tent his bones to-night shall lie, 

Most like a soldier, order'd honourably. J.C, v. 4. 


Bear from hence his body, 
And mourn you for him ; let him be regarded 
As the noblest corse, that ever herald 
Did follow to his urn. C. v. 5. 

• Julius C/Esar. 

0, pardon me, thou bleeding piece of earth, 

Tliat I am meek and gentle with these butchers! 

Thou art the ruins of the no])lest man, 

That ever lived in the tide of times. 

Woe to the hand that shed this costly blood ! 

Over thy wounds now do I propliecy, — 

Which, like dumb mouths, do ope their ruby lips, 

To beg the voice and utterance of my tongue ! 

A curse shall light upon the limbs of men; 

Domestic fury, and tierce civil strife, 

Shall cumber all the parts of Italy ; 

Blood and destruction shall be so in use. 

And dreadful ol)iects so familiar. 

That mothers shall but smile, when they behold 

'J'heir infants quarter'd by the hands of war: 

All pity chokVl with custom of fell deeds : 

And Ci^sar's syjirit, raging for revenge, 

With Ate by his s^.de, como hot from hell, 

Shall in these confines, with a monarch's voice, 

Cry Havoc, and let slip the dogs of war. / (J. iii. 1, 


And, that hereafter age;^ may behold 
What ruin happen'd in revenge of hinj. 

MiG |!jnhr;;;r:ti'^n rKriiniian|. mib 

MIGHTY Dead —coiifinn^d. 

Within their chioibrft temple I'll erect . 

A tomb, wherein ills corpse shall be interr'd. 

H. VL PT. I. ii. 2. 


When the mind's free the body's delicate. K. L. iii. 4. 


It mnst be so : for miracles are ceas'd ; 

And therefore we must needs admit the means 

How things are perfected. H. V. i. 1. 

Great floods have flown 
From simple sources ; and great seas have dried, . 
While miracles have by the i!;reatest been denied. 


i^ wake the pert and nimble spirit of mirth ; 

Turn melancholy forth to funerals, 

The pale companion is not for our pomp. 3f. iV. i. 1. 

Hostess, clap to the doors ; w\atch to-night, pray to-mor- 
row. — Gallants, lads, boys, hearts of gold, all the titles of 
good fellowship come to you ! A¥hat, shall we be merry ? 
Shall we have a play extempore ? H. IV. pt. i. ii. 4. 

See, your guests approach : 
Address ^^ourself to entertain them sprightly, 
And let's be red with mirth. W. T, iv. 3 

Frame your mind to mirth and merriment, 
W^hich bars a thousand harms, and lengthens life. 

T. S. Lnd. 2. 
A merrier man, 
Within the limit of becoming mirth, 

I never spent an hour's talk w^ithal. L. L. ii. 1. 

And then the old quire hold their lips, and loffe ; 
And waxen in their mirth, and neeze, and swear 
A merrier hour was never w^asted there. M. K. ii. 1. 

Jog on, j')g on, the foot-path way 

And merrily hent the stile-a, 
A merry heart goes all the day, 

Your sad tires in a mile-a. W,T. iv. S 

lie makes a July's day short as December ; 
And, with his varying childness, cures in me 
Thoughts that w^ould thick my blood. W.T. i. 2. 

From the crown of his head to the sole of his foot, he is 
all mirth ; he hath twice or thrice cut Cupid's bow-string, 
and the little hangman dare not shoot at him: he hath > 


MiK lljakopuriEtt ffiirtinnnrii. mis 

MIRTH, — continued, 

heart as sound as a bell, and his tongue is the clapper ; for 
what his heart thinks, his tongue speaks. Jf. A. iii. "Z. 

Lot me play the fool : 
With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come; 
And let my liver rather heat with wine, 
Than my heart cool with mortifying groans. M. V. i. 1. 

I would entreat you rather to put on 
Your boldest suit of mirth, for we have friends 
That purpose merriment. M,V. ii. 2. 

Had she been light like you, 
Of such a merry, nimble, stirring spirit. 
She might have been a grandam ere she died ; 
And so may 3'ou : for a light heart lives long. L. L, v. 2. 
Be large in mirth ; anon, we'll drink a measure 
The table round. M, iii. 4, 


I am misanthropes, and hate mankind, 

For thy part, I do wish thou wert a dog, 

That I might love thee something. T. A. iv. 3. 

Tell Athens, in the sequence of degree, 

From high to low throughout, that whoso please 

To stop affliction, let him take his haste. 

Come hither, ere my tree hath felt the axe, 

And hang himself. T. A. v. 2. 


mischief strangely thwarting ! 31. A. iii. 2 
As prone to mischief, as able to perform it. H. VIIL i. I 

mischief ! thou art swift 
To enter in the thoughts of desperate men ! B,J. v. 1. 

Ha ! what, so rank ? Ah, ha ! 
There's mischief in this man. H. VIIL i. 2. 

0, this is full of pity ! — Sir, it calls, 

1 fear, too many curses on their heads, 

That were the authors. H. VIIL ii. 1. 

MISER, Sick. 

Having no other pleasure of his gain 

But torment, that it cannot ease his pain. Poems, 

I can compare our rich misers to nothing so fitly as to a 
Whale ; that plays and tuml)les, driving the poor fry before 
him, and at last devours them all at a mouthful. Such 
whales I have heard of on land, who never leave gaping, 
till they have swallovvcd up a whole parish, church, steeple, 
bells, and all. P. R ii 1. 

MIS |lTiikt0|iEiiriaii Biriiunnni. mob 


Misery acquaints a man with strange bed-fellows. T. ii. 2, 
Misery makes sport to mock itself. B. II. ii. 1. 

MISERY, Appeal of. 

0, let those cities, that of Plenty's cup 

And her prosperities so largely taste, 

With their superfluous riots, hear these tears ! P. P. i. 4. 


My stars shine darkly over me. T. iV. ii. 1. 

I am now, Sir, muddied in fortune's moat,- and smell 
somewhat strong of her strong displeasure. A. W. v. 2. 

A most poor man, made tame by fortune's blows ; 
Who, by the art of known and feeling sorrows, 
Am pregnant to good pity. K, L. iv. 6. 

AVTien we were happy, we had other names. K. J, v. 4. 

— Sometimes brings Contentment. 

My long sickness 
Of health and living, now begins to mend, 
And nothing brings me all things. T.A, v. 2. 


Benefactors ? Well ; what benefactors are they ? are they 
not malefactors ? M. M, ii. 1. 


Beaten for loyalty, 
Excited me to treason. Cym. v. 5 


Then my dial goes not true ; I took this lark for a bunting. 

A. W. ii. 5. 
AYhat a thrice double ass 
Was I, to take this drunkard for a god, 
And worship this dull fool ! T. v. 1. 


I hold it cowardice, 
To rest mistrustful, where a ncble heart 
Ilath pawn'd an open hand in sign of love. 

H. FL PT. iiT. iv. 2. 

MOB (See also Commotion, Popularity.) 

Here come the clusters. C. iv. 6. 

The mutable, rank-scented many. C. iii. I 

There'8 a trim rablile let in ; Are all these 
Your faithful friends o' the suburbs? E.VIIL v. 3, 

MOB ijjnkopBnriiiii Jirtinnitrif. mob 

MOB, — continued. 

The J threw their caps 
As they would hang them on the h-orns o' the moon, 
Shouting their emulation. C. i. 1, 

He that will give good words to thee, will flatter 

Beneath abhorring. What would you have, you curs, 

That like nor peace, nor war ? The one affrights yo u, 

The other makes you proud. He that trusts you, 

AVhere he should find you lions, finds you hares ; 

Where foxes, geese : You are no sparer, no. 

Than is the coal of fire upon the ice. 

Or hailstone in the sun. Your virtue is. 

To make him worthy, whose offence subdues him. 

And curse that justice did it. Who. deserves greatness, 

Deserves your hate ; and your affections are 

A sick man's appetite, who desires most that 

.Which would increase his evil. He that depends 

Upon your favours, swims Avith fins of load. 

And hews down oaks with rushes. Hang ye ! Trust ye ? 

With every minuto you do chango a mind ; 

And call him noble, that was now your hate; 

Him vile, that was jour garland. C. i. 1, 

Y^ou are they 
That made the air unwholesome, when you cast 
Your stinking, greasy caps, in hooting at 
Coriolanus^ exile. C. iv. 6. 

What work's, my countrymen, in hand ? AYhere go you 
With bats and clubs ? The matter ? Speak, I pray you. 

C. 1. 1. 
You common cry of curs ! Avhose breath I hate 
As reek o' the rotten fens ; Avhose love I prize 
As the dead carcasses of unburied raten 
That do corrupt my air. * C. iii. 3. 

Mechanic slaves. 
With greasy aprons, rules, and hammers, shall 
Uplift us to the view ; in their thick breaths, 
Hank of gross diet, shall we be enclouded, 
And forc'd to drink their vapour. A,C, v. 2. 

The fool multitude, that choose by show, 
Not learning more than the fond eye doth teach ; 
Which prize not to the interior, but, like the martlet, 
Builds in the weather on the outward wall, 
Even in the force and road of casualty. M.V, ii. 9 

The rabble should have first unroof'd the city, 
Vjvq so prevail'd with me : it will in time 

MOB Ijiiikriiiitnna:! inutiiiiiiiri|. moo 

MOB, — continued. 

AVin upon power, and throw fortti greater inemes 

For insurrection's arguing. C. i. ] 

The boar^t 
With many heads butts me away. J. iv. ] 

You have made good work, 
You, and your apron-mcH. C, iv. i 

Hence ; home, you idle creatures, get you home: 
Is this a holiday ? What 1 know you not, 
Being mechanical, you ought not walk, 
Upon a labouring day, without the sign 
Of your profession ? Speak, what trade art thou ? 
I will not choose what many men desire, 
Because I will not" jump with common spirits, 
And rank me with the barbarous multitudes. M.V. ii. f 
Cats, that can judge as fitly of his worth, 
As I can of those mysteries wliich heaven 
Will not have earth to know. C. iv. S 

They said they were an hungry, sigh'd forth proverbs ; 
That, hunger broke stone walls ; that, dogs ihust eat ; 
That, meat was made for mouths ; that, the gods sent not 
Corn for the rich men only : — With these shreds 
They vented their complainings. (7. i. 1 

AVhose rage doth rend 
Like interrupted waters, and overbear 
What they are us'd to bear. 
The shouting varletry. 
This inundation of mistemper'd humour. 


The horn and noise o' the monsters. 
The totigues o' the common mouth. 
The herdsman of the beastly plebeians. - 


By heaven, all dry-beaten with pure scoff. 

But who dare tell her so ? If I should speak, 

She'd mock me into air ; 0, she would laugh me 

Out of myself, press me to death with wit. 

Therefore lot Benedick, like C(jver'd lire, 

(.'onsume away in sighs, waste inwardly : 

It vv^ere a better death than die with mocks; 

"Which is as bad as die with tickling. 3f. A. iii. 1 

Never did mockers waste more idle breath. M. N. iii. 2 

How my achievements mock me. T.C, iv. 2 

C, iii. 
K. J. V. 

, 1 


, 1. 

a. iii. 

C. iii. 

C. ii. 




MOO lljakfSjiMriiiii Sirtiniiarii. ' mod 

MOC K E RY—coniinved, 

A pestilence on him I — now will ho be mocking. T.C. It. 2. 

To mock the expectation of the world. II. IV. pt. ii. v. 2. 

They do it hut m mocking merriment ; 

And mock for mock is only my intent. L. L. v. 2. 

. Solemn. 

0, such a deed 
As from the body of contraction plucks 
The very soul ; and swee^ -^^ligion makes 
A rhapsody of words. S. iii. 4. 


Let's teach ourselves that honourable stop, 

Not to out-sport discretion. 0. ii. 3. 

For aught I see, they are as sic^j, that surfeit with too 
much, as they that starve with nothing ; it is no mean hap- 
piness, therefore, to be seated in tlie mean ; superfluity 
comes sooner by white hairs, but competency lives longer. 

if. F. 1.2. 

What's amiss, 
May it be gently heard : When we debate 
Our trivial <liiiOrence loud, we do commit 
Murder in healing wounds: Thou, noble partner, 
(The rather, f)r I earnestly beseech,) 
Touch you the sourest points with sweetest terms, 
Nor curstncss gro^v to the matter. A. C. ii. 2. 


It is the witness still of excellency, 

To put a strange face on nis own perfection. M. A. ii. 3. 

Bashful sincerit;^ and comely love. M. A. iv. 1. 

Can It be, 
That modesty may more betray our sense 
Than woman's Lghtness ? Having w^aste ground enough, 
8hall we desire to raze the sanctuary, 
And pitch our evils there ? M. M. ii. 2. 

Too modest are you ; 
IMore cruel to your good report, than grateful 
To us that give you truly. C i. 9. 

^__ ITS Influence. 

I perceive in you so excellent a touch of modesty, that 

you will not extort from me what I am willing to keep in ; 

herefore it charges me in manners the rather to expresf 

myself. T.N.WA 

211 21 

MON lljiikrHfrMriEH Dirtiniinrif. moo 


For they say, if money go before, all ways do lie open. 

M. W. ii. 2. 
Money is a good soldier. Sir, and will on. M W. ii. 2. 

what a world of vile, ill-favour'd faults, 
Looks handsome in three hundred pounds a year ! 

M. W. iii. 4. 
But, by the Lord, lads, I am glad you have the money. 

jy. iF. PT. I. ii. 4. 
Bell, book, a-nd candle, shall not drive me back, 
AVhen gold and silver becks me to come on. K.J. iii. 1. 

All gold and silver rather turn to dirt ! 
As 'tis no better reckoned but of those 
Who worship dirty gods. Cym. iii. 6. 


By this good light this is a very shallow monster: I 
afeard of him ? — a very weak monster : The man in the 
moon ? — a most poor credulous monster : — well drawn mon- 
ster, in good sooth. . T. ii. 2. 
I shall laugh myself to death at this puppy-headed mon- 
ster 1 A most scurvy monster. T. ii. 2. 

. Attractiveness of, in England. 

Were I in England now, (as once I was,) and had but 
this fish painted, not a holiday fool there but would give a 
piece of silver: there would this monster make a man ; any 
str;in2:e beast there makes a man : when they will not give 
a doit to relieve a lame beggar, they will lay out ten to see 
a dead Indian. T. ii. 2. 


I cannot hide what I am : I must be sad when I have 
cause, and smile at no man's jests ; eat when I have sto- 
mach, and wait for no man's leisure; sleep when I am 
drowsy, and tend to no man's business ; laugh when I am 
merry, and claw no man in his humour. M. A. i. 3. 

1 love to cope him in these sullen fits, 

For then he's full of matter. A.Y, ii. 1. 


sovereign mistress of true melancholy. A. C. iv. 9 

The moon, the governess of floods, 
Pale in her anger, washes ail the air. 
That rheumatic diseases do abound : 
And, through this distemperature, we see 
The seasons alter. ilf. iV. ii. 2, 

The pale-fac'd moon. R, U. ii, 4. 


MOO Ijialttspuiimi Diitiniurij. Mon 

MOON, — coiiiinued. 

How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank! 

Here will we sit, and let the sounds of music 

Creep in our ears. Jf. V. v. 1. 


Methinks, how slow 

This old moon wanes ! she lingers my desires, 

Like to a step-dame, or a dow^ager, 

Long withering out a young man's revenue. M. N. i. 1 


See, how the morning opes her golden gates, 
And takes her f^irewell of the glorious sun ! 
How well resembles it the prince of youth, 
Trimm'd like a younker prancing to his love ! 

H. VL FT. III. ii. L 
The busy day, 
AVak'd by the lark, hath rous'd the ribald crows. 

r. aiv.2. 
The sun is on the heaven ; and the proud day, 
Attended with the pleasures of the world, 
Is all too wanton. K. J. iii. 3. 


Even so must I run on, and even so stop. K.J.y . 

This muddy vesture of decay. M.V.v . . 


Things in motion sooner catch the eye, 
Than what not stirs. T. C. iii. 3 


'Tis sweet and commendable in your nature, Hamlet, 

To give these mourning duties to your father : 

But, you must know, your father lost a father ; 

That father lost his ; and the survivor bound 

In filial obligation, for some term 

To do obsequious sorrow : But to persevere 

In obstinate condoleraent, is a course 

Of impious stubbornness: 'tis unmanly grief: 

It shows a will most incorrect to heaven : • 

A heart unfortified, a mind impatient ; 

An understanding simple and unschool'd : 

For what we know, must be, and is as common 

As any the most vulgar thing to sense, 

Why should we, in our peevish opposition, 

Take it to heart ? Fie ! 'tis a fault to heaven, 

A fault against the dead, a fault to nature. 

To reason most absurd ; whose common theme 

MoiT lljnIvrHpnrinn Dirtiniiiirii. mttr 


Is death of fathers, nnd who still hath cried. 

From the first corse, till he that died to-day, 

" This must be so.'' H. i. 2, 

Tis not alone my inky cloak, good mother 

Nor customary suits of solemn black. 

Nor windy suspiration of forc'd breath, 

No, nor the fruitful river in the eye, 

Xor the dejected 'haviour of the visage, 

Together with all forms, modes, shows of grief, 

That can denote me truly : These, indeed, seem. 

For they are actions that a man might play : 

But I have that within, which passeth show ; 

These, but the trappings and the suit of woe. H. i. 2. 

MUCH Ado about Nothing. 

To tear with thunder the wide cheeks o' the air, 

And yet to charge thy sulphur wdth a bolt 

That should but rive an oak. C. v. 3, 


The best ward of mine honour, is, rewarding my dependents. 

i. L. iii. 1. 


The great King of kings 
Hath in the table of his law commanded, 
That thou shalt do no murder : Wilt thou then 
Spurn at his edict, and fulfil a man's ? 
Take heed; for he holds vengeance in his hand, 
To hurl upon their heads that break his law. 7?. TIL i. 4 
There is no sure foundation set on blood ; 
No certain life achieved by others' death. K. J. iv. 2. 

Not afraid to kill him, having a warrant for it; but to be 
damned for killing him, from the which no w^arrant can 
defend me. E. Ill i. 4. 

This is the bloodiest shame, 
The wildest savag'ry, the vilest stroke, 
'■'hat ever wall-eyed wrath, or staring rage, 
l^resented to the tears of soft remorse. K. J. iv. 3. 

Thou sure and firm-set earth, 
iricar not my steps, wdiich way they walk, for fear 
The very stones prate of my whereaiwut. 
And take the present horror from the time, 
AViiich now suits with it. M. ii. 1 

The tyrannous and bloody act is done ; 
The most arch deed of piteous massacre. 
That ever yet this land was guilty of. 


mm iljaktspEtiEii Birtintianj. muk 

MURDER,— m«ym?/etZ. 

I)i2;ht()ii, {Hid Forrest, whom I did suborn 
To do this [)ioco of ruthless butchery, 
^Vlboit they were ilesii'd viUains, Idood dogs. 
JMeltinii; with tenderness, and mild compassion. 
Wept like two children, in their death's sad story. 

k. Ill Iv. 3. 
Mercy but murders, pardoning those that kill. B. J. iii. 1. 
No place, indeed, should murder sanctuarize. JI. iv. 7. 

Rlood hath been shed ere now, i' the olden time, 
Ere human statute purg'd the general weal ; 
Ay, and sinee, too, murders have been performed 
Too terrible for the ear ; the times have been, 
That when the brains were out, the man would die, 
And there an end : but novv% they rise again, 
"With twenty mortal murders on their crowns. 
And push us from our stools: This is more strange 
Than such a murder is. M. iii. 4, 

It will have blood ; they say, blood will have blood ; 
Stones have lj('en known to move, and trees to speak ; 
Augures, and understood relations, have 
l>y magot-pics, and choughs, and rooks, brought forth 
The secret'st man of blood. M. iii. 4. 

For murder, though it have no tongue, will speak 
With most miraculous organ. H. ii. 2 

Who finds the heifer dead and bleeding fresh, 
And sees fast by a butcher Avith an axe. 
Rut will suspect Hwas he that made tlie slaughter ? 
Who finds the partridge in the puttock's nest, 
Rut may imagine how the bird was dead, 
Although the kite soar with unbloodied beak. 
Even so suspicious is this tragedy. II. VI. pt. ii. iii. 2. 

Withered murder, 
Alarum'd by his sentinel, the wolf, 
Wliose liowPs. his watch, thus, with his stealthy pace. 
With Tarquin^s ravisliing strides, towards his design 
Moves like a ghost. M. ii. 1 

With all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood 
Clean from my hand? No ; this my hand will rather 
The multitudinous seas incarnadine, 

I>Iaking the green one, red. M. ii. 2. 

Rutchers and villains, bloody cannibals ! 
How sweet a plant have you untimely cropp'd ! 
You have no children, l)utchers ! if you had, 
The thought of them would have stirr'd up remorse. 

II. VI. PT. III. V. 5, 

I • 2i5 21* 

AiuR lljukrHpariEE Uirtinuartf. mus 

MURDER,— contimied. 

j^;Turder most foul, as in the best it is ; 

But this most foul, strange, and unnatural. H. i. 5 

The bell invites me. 
Hoar it not, Duncan ; for it is a knell 
That summons thee to heaven, or to hell. M. ii. 1. 

Safe in a ditch he bides, 
With twenty trenched gashes on his head ; 
The least a death to nature. M. iii.4. 

The Duke of Clarence. 

llast thou that holy feeling in thy soul, 
'To counsel me to make my peatie with God, 
^^nd art thou yet to thy own soul so blind, 
That thou wilt war with God, by murdering me ? 
Ah, sirs, consider, he, that set you on 
To do this deed, will hate you for the deed. 
Not to relent, is beastly savage, devilish. 
Which, of you, if 3^ou were a prince's son, 
Being pent from liberty, as I am now, 
ir two sucii murderers as yourselves came to you, 
Would not entreat for life ? 
My friend, I spy some pity in thy looks ; 
0, if thine eye be not a flatterer, 
Come thou on my side, and entreat for me, 
As you would beg, were you in my distress. 
A begging prince what beggar pities not ? 
27id Murderer. — Look behind you, my lord. 
1st Murderer. — Take that, and that. {Stabbing Jiim.) 

B. III. I 4. 

— Young Princes (Wales and York). 

thus, quoth Dighton, lay the gentle babes, — 

Thus, thus, quoth Forrest, girdling one another 

AVithin their alabaster innocent arms ; 

Their lips were four red roses on a stalk, 

Which, in their summer beauty, kiss'd each other. 

A book of prayers on their pillow lay; 

Which, once, quoth Forrest, almost changed my mind ; 

But, 0, the devil — there the villain stopped 

When Dighton thus told on, — ^v^^e smothered 

The most replenished sweet work of nature, 

That, from the prime creation, e'er she fram'd. 

B. Ill iv. 3. 

■ Richard the Second. 

Exton. — From your own mouth, my lord, did I this deed. 
Bolhigbroke. — They love not poison that do poison need, 
Nor do I thee ; though I. did wish him dead, 

24d ^ 

MUR |I;{ikr5|iniriiiii 5irtiniian[. muk 

MURDER, Richard the Second, — continued, 
I hate the murderer, love him murvlered. 
The guilt of conscience take thou for thy labour, 
But neither my good word, nor princely favour ; 
With Cain go wander through the shade of night, 
And never shew thy head by day, nor light. R.IL v. 6. 

■ PrIXCE xiuTHUR. 

Iluberi. — Here is your hand and seal for what T did. 

iLing John. — 0, when the last account 'twixt heaven and 
Is to be made, then shall this hand and seal 
AVitness against us to damnation ! 
IIow oft the sight of means to do ill deeds. 
Makes deeds ill done ! Iladst not thou been by, 
A fellow by the hand of nature marked. 
Quoted, and sign'd, to do a deed of shame, 
This murder had not come into my mind: 
But, taking note of thy abhor'd aspect, 
Finding thee fit for bloody villany. 
Apt, liable, to be employ'd in danger, 
I faintly broke with thee of Arthur's death ; 
And thou, to be endeared to a king. 
Made it no conscience to destroy a prince. 
lladst thou but shook thy head, or made a pause, 
When I spake darkly what I purposed ; 
Or turn'd an eye of doubt upon my face, 
As bid me tell my tale in express Avords ; 
Deep shame had struck me damb, made me break off. 
And those thy fears might have wrought fears in me ; 
But thou didst understand me by my signs, 
And didst in signs a'i,'ain parley with sin ; 
Yea, without stop, didst let thy heart consent^ 
And, consequently, thy rude hand to act 
The deed, wdiich botli our tongues held vile to name. — • 
Out of my sight, and never see me more 1 K. J. iv. 2. 

Suspicion of. 

If thou didst but consent 
To this most cruel act, do but despair, 
And, if thou want'st a cord, the smallest thread 
That ever spider twisted from her womb 
Will serve to strangle thee ; a rush will be 
A beam to hang thee on ; or would'st thou drown thyself, 
Put but a little water in a spoon, 
And it shall be as all the ocean. 
Enough to stifie such a villain up. — 
I do suspect thee very grievously. K J. iv 3« 


Mus |{ffilto|iBiiriiiii BiriinEnrtt. mus 


Come, ho, and wake Diana with a hymn ; 
With sweetest touches pierce your mistress* ear, 
And draw her home w^ith music. M.V. v. 1. 

Let music sound while he doth make his choice ; 
Then, if he lose, he makes a swan-like end, 
Fading in music. That the comparison 
May stand more proper, my eye shall he the stream, 
And wat'ry death-hed for him : lie may win ; 
And what is music then? Then music is 
Even as the flourish when true subjects bow 
To a new-crowned monarch ; such it is, 
As are those dulcet sounds in break of day. 
That creep into the dreaming bridegroom's' ear, 
And summon him to marriage. " 3LV. iii. 2. 

Come on ; tune : If you can penetrate her w^ith your 
fingering, so; we'll try w^ith tongue too: if none will do, 
let her remain; but ITl never give o^er. First, a very ex- 
cellent good-conceited thing , after a wonderful sweet air, 
with admirable rich words to it, — and then let her consider. 

Ci/7)i. ii. 3. 
IIow sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this, bank ! 
Here will we sit, and let the sounds of music 
Creep in our ears ; soft stillness, and the night, 
Become the touches of sweet harmony. M,V. v. 1. 

Sitting on a bank, 
Weeping against the king my father's wreck, 
This music crept by me upon the waters ; 
Allaying both their fury and my passion, 
With its sweet air. T. i. 2, 

'Tis good tho' music oft hath such a charm, 
To make bad good ; and good provoke to harm. M. M. iv. 1. 
And it will discourse most eloquent music. H. iii. 2. 

Preposterous ass ! that never read so far, 
To know^ the cause why music was ordain'd \ 
M^as it not to refresh the mind of man, 
After his studies, or his usual pain ? 
Then give me leave to read philosophy, 
And, while I pause, serve in your harmony. T.S. iii. 1. 

I'm never merry, when I liear sweei; niusic. — 
The reason is, your spirits are attentive : 
For do but note a wild and wanton herd, 
Or race of youthful and unhandled colts. 
Fetching mad bounds, bellowing and neighing loud, 
Which is the hot condition of their blood : 
If they perchance but hear a trumpet sound, 


Mrs llmlvBspiaritin BirtiDitarif. mus 

\I USIC, — continued. 

Or any air of music touch their ears, 

You shall perceive them make a mutual stand, 

Their savage eyes turn'd to a modest gaze, 

By the sweet power of music : Therefore, the poet 

Did fein that Orpheus drew trees, stones, and floods ; 

Since nought so stockish, hard, and full of rage, 

But music for the time doth change his nature. M. V. v. 1. 

The man that hath not music in himself, 

Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds, 

Is lit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils; 

The motions of his spirit are dull as night, 

And his affections dark as Erebus : 

Let no such man be trusted. M. V. v. 1. 

For Orpheus' lute was stung with poets' sinews, 

Whose golden touch 'could soften steel and stones ; 

Make tigers tame, and huge leviathans 

Forsake unsounded deeps to dance on sands. 2\G. iii. 2, 

If music be the food of love, play on, 

(jiive me excess of it ; that, surfeiting, 

The appetite may sicken, and so die. — 

That strain again ; — it had a dying fall : 

0, it came o'er mine ear like the sweet south, 

That breathes upon a bank of violets, 

Stealing and giving odour. T. N. i. 1. 

Once I sat upon a promontory, 
And heard a mermaid, on a dolphin's back, 
Uttering such dulcet and harmonious breath, • 
That the rude sea grew civil at her song ; 
And certain stars shot madly from their spheres. 
To hear the sea-maid's music. If. N. ii. 2. 

Let there be no noise made, my gentle friends ; 
Unless some dull and favourable hand 

Will whisper music to my woury spirit. II. IV. pt. ii. iv. 4. 
Then music, with her silver sound. 
With speedy help doth lend redress. R. J. iv. 5. 

Tax not so bad a voice 
To slander music any more than once. M. A. ii. 3. 

But, masters, here's money for you: and the general so 
likes your music, that he desires you, of all loves, to make 
no more noise with it. 0. iii. 1. 

Wilt thou have music? hark ! Apollo plays, 
And twenty caged nightingales do sing. T. S. Inl». 2. 

Give me some music ; music, moody food 
Of us that trade in love. The music, ho ! A.C, ii. 5. 


Mus IjiEkrspEriaii Sirtinimnf* mys 

MU SIC , — continued. 

I am advised to give her music o^mornings: they say it 
will penetrate. Cym. ii. 3 

The choir, 
With all the choicest music of the kingdom, 
Together sung Te l)eum. JS. YIIL iv. 1. 


He plays o' th' viol-de-gambo. T, N. i. 3. 


Call forth your actors by tKe scroll. Masters, spread 
yourselves. M. N, i. 2. 


How chances mock, 
And changes fill the cup of alteration 
With divers liquors ! ' H. IV. pt. ii. iii. I. 

To what base uses we may return, Horatio ! AYhy may 
not imagination trace the noble dust of Alexander till ho 
lind it stopping a bung-hole ? //. v. i. 

Imperious Caesar, dead, and turn'd to clay, 
Might stop a hole, to keep the wind away : 
0, that the earth, which kept the world in awe, 
Should patch a wall to expel the winter's flaw I II. v. 1. 

All things that wo ordained festival. 
Turn from their office to black funeral: 
Our instruments, to melancholy bells ; 
Our wedding cheer, to a sad burial feast ; 
Our solemn hymns, to sullen dirges change ; 
Our bridal flowers serve for a buried corse, 
And all things change them to the contrary. R. J. iv. 5. 
This world is not for aye ; nor His not strange. 
That even our love should with our fortunes change ; 
For His a question left us yet to prove, 
Whether love lead fortune, or else fortune love. H. iii. 2. 

Lord, we know what we are, but know not what we 
may be ! £f. iv. 5. 


There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, 
Than are dreamt of in your philosophy H. i. 5. 

Canst tell now an oyster makes his shell ^ K.L.i.^, 


It was not brought me, my lord, there's the cunning of 
it ; I found it thrown in at the casement of my closet. 

j^. L- ? 2. 

NAi Ijnikssparin!! Dirtinimrti. nat 



You nymphs, call'd Naiads, of the wand^'ing brooks. 
With your sedg'd crowns and ever harmitss looks, 
Leave your crispM channels, and on this green land 
Answer your summons. T iv. X. 


Brutus and Cassar: what should be in that Caesar? 

Why should that name be sounded more than yours ? 

Write them together, yours is as fair a name ; 

Sound them, it doth become the mouth as well ; 

W^gh them, it is as heavy; conjure with them, 

Brutus will start a spirit as soon as Csesar. 

Now in the names of all the gods at once, 

Upon what meat doth this our Caesar feed, 

That he is grown so great. /. C. i. 2, 

'Tis but thy name that is my enemy, — 

Thou art thyself, though not a Montague. 

What^s Montague ? it is nor hand, nor foot, 

Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part 

Belonging to a man. 0, be some other name ! 

What's in a name ? that which we call a rose, 

By any other name would smell as sweet. E. J. ii. 2. 

I do beseech you, 
(Chiefly, that I might set it in my prayers,) 
What is your name ? T, iii. 1. 

Romeo, doff thy name ; 
And for that name, which is no part of thee. 
Take all myse-lf. B. J. ii. 2. 

Go back ; the virtue of your name 
Is not here passable. C, v. 2. 


No more yet of this ; 
For His a chronicle of day by day, 
Not a relation for a breakfast, nor 
Befitting this first meeting T. v. I. 


Nature hath meal, and bran ; contempt, and grace. 

C7/m. iv. 2, 
One touch of nature makes the whole world kin. 

T. a ill. 3. 
How hard it is to hide the sparks of nature ! Ci/m, iii. 3. 


NAT llmlvrHjitnriaii iDiitiiiiiartf, nec 

Nature, what things there are, 
Most abject in regard, and dear in use ! 
What things again most dear m the esteem, 
And poor in worth ! T.C. iii. 3. 

Labouring art can never ransom Nature 

From her inaidable estate. A. W. ii. 1. 

NATURAL Productions. 

Many for many virtues excellent, 

None but for some, and yet all different. 

0, mickle is the powerful grace, that lies 

In herbs, plants, stones, and their true qualities : 

For nought so vile that on the earth doth live, 

But to the earth some special good doth give; 

Nor auglit so good, but, strain'd from that fair use, 

llevolts from true birth,' stumbling on a])use: 

A^irtue itself turns vice, being misapplied: 

And vice sometime's Ijy action dignified. 

Within the infant rind of this sm.iU flower 

Poison hath residence, and med'cine power : 

For this, being smelt, with that part ch?ors each part; 

lacing tasted, stays all senses with the heart. 

Two such opposed foes encamp them still 

In man as well as herbs, grace, and rude will ; 

And, where the worser is predominant, 

Full soon the canker death eats up that plant. i?. /. ii. 3, 


Necessity's sharp pinch. K. L. ii. 4, 

Teach thy necessity to reason thus ; 

There is no virtue like necessity. JR. II. i. 3. 

Where is this straw, my fellow ? 
The art of our necessities is strange, 
That can make vile things precious. K. L. iii. 2. 

Necessity will make us all forsworn. L. L. i. 1. 

0, reason not the need : our basest b*\ggars 

Are in the poorest tiling superfluous : 

Allow not nature more than nature needs, 

IMan's life is cheap as beast's. K. L. ii. 4 

But, for true need, — 
You heavens, give me that patience : patience 1 need. 

K. L. ii. 4. 
I am sworn brotlier, sweet, 
To grim Necessity ; and he and I 
Will keep a league till death. E. ILy, 1 

SEG Ijiakispatiaii Sirtiniiarti. new 

NEGLECT (See also Delay, Opportunity). 
0, then, beware ; 
Those wounds heal ill that men do give themselves : 
Omission to do what is necessary 
Seals a commission to a blank of danger ; 
And danger, like an ague, subtly taints 
Even then when we sit idly in the sun. T.C. iii. 3. 

Fit for a fool to fall by ! H. nil iii. 2. 

And you are now sailed into the north of my lady's 
opinion, where you will hang like an icicle in a Dutchman's 
beard, unless you do redeem it by some laudable attempt, 
either of valour, or policy. T. iV. iii. 2. 

They pass'd by me 
As misers do by beggars. " T.C, iii. 3. 

Omittance is no quittance. A. Y. iii. 5, 

NEWS (Sae also Messenger). 

I<et me speak, to the yet unknowing world, 
IIow these things came about ; so shall you hear 
Of carnal, bloody, and unnatural acts ; 
Of accidental judgments, casual slaughters ; 
Of deaths put on by cunning, and forc'd cause ; 
And, in this upshot, purposes mistook 
EalPn on the investor's heads ; all this can I 
Truly deliver. ff. v. 2. 

But I have words, 
That should be howl'ct out in the desert air 
Where hearing should not latch them. M. iv. 3. 

And there are twenty weak and A^earied posts, 
Come from the north ; and, as I came along, 
I met, and overtook, a dozen captains. 
Bareheaded, sweating, knocking at the taverns. 

H.IV, PT. II. ii.4. 
Is thy news good, or bad ? answer to that : 
vSay either, and I'll stay the circumstance ; 
Let me be satisfied, — Is't good or bad ? R. /. ii. 5, 

\ Old men, and beldams, in the streets 
Do prophesy upon it dangerously ; 
Young Arthur's death is common in their mouths : 
And when they talk of him, they shake their heads, 
And whisper one another in the ear : 
And he that speaks, doth gripe the hearer's wrist ; 
Whilst he that hears, makes fearful action. 
With wrinkled brows, with nods, with rolling eyes. 
I saw a smith stand with his hammer, thus, 

•2.o6 22 

NEW IJjakrHjiMtiiiii DirtioHanj. new 

NEWS, — continued. 

The whilst the iron did on the anvil cool, 
With open mouth swallowing a tailor's news ; 
Who, with his shears and measure in his hand, 
Standing on slippers, (which his nimble haste 
Had falsely thrust upon contrary feet,) 
Told of a many thousand warlike French, 
That were embattalled and rank'd in Kent; 
Another lean unwash'd artificer 

Cuts off" his tale, and talks of Arthur's death. K.J. iv. 2. 

Tell him, there's a post come from my master, with his 

horn full of news. M. V. v. 1. 

Ere I was risen from the place that show'd 

My duty kneeling, came there a reeking post, 

Stew'd in his haste, half breathless, panting forth 

From Goneril, his mistress, salutations ; 

Deliver'd letters, spite of intermission, 

Which presently they read. K. L. ii. 4, 

After him, came spurring hard, 
A gentleman almost forspent with speed ; 
That stopp'd by me to breathe his bloodied horse ; 
He ask'd the way to Chester, and of him 
1 did demand what newh from Shrewsbury. 
He told me, that rebellion had bad luck, 
And that young Harry Percy's spur was cold ; 
With that, he gave his able horse the head, 
.And, bending forward, struck his armed heels 
Against the panting sides of his poor jade, 
Up to the rowel head ; and, starting so. 
He seem'd in running to devour the way, 
Staying no further question. //. IV. ft. ii. i. 1. 

Seek him, Titinius ; whilst I go to meet 
The noble Brutus, thrusting this report 
Into his ears : I may say, thrusting it ; 
For piercing steel, and darts envenomed. 
Shall be as welcome to the ears of Brutus, 
As tidings of this sight. J.C. v. 3. 

Tedious it were to tell, and harsh to hear. T. S. iii. 2. 

My ears are stopp'd, and cannot hear good news. 
So much of bad already hath possess'd them. T. G. iii. 1. 

I drown'd these news in tears. R. VL pt. hi. ii. 1. 

News, fitted to the night : 
Black, fearful, comfortless, and horrible. K. J. v. 6 

Master, master! news, old news, and such news as you 
never heard of. T. S. iii. 2. 

NEW Ijiakispnriiiii Sittinunrii. new 

NEWS, — continued, 

Kam thou thy fruitful tidings in mine ears, 
That long time have been barren. A.C. ii. 5. 

Such a deal of wonder is broken out within this hour^ 
that the ballad-makers cannot be able to express it. 

^.^. V.2. 
Let not your ears despise my tongue for ever, 
Which shall possess them with the heaviest sound, 
That ever yet they heard. M. iv. 3. 

My heart hath one poor string to stay it by, 
Which holds but till thy news be uttered. K. J. v. 7. 

There's villainous news abroad. H. IV. pt. i. ii. 4. 

0, slaves, I can tell you news; news, you rascals. C. iv. 5. 

There might you have beheld one joy crown another ; 
so, and in such manner, that, it seemed, sorrow wept to 
take leave of them ; for their joy waded in tears. There 
was casting up of eyes, holding up of hands ; with counte- 
nance of such distraction, that they were to be known by 
garment, not by favour. W.T. v. 2. 

Thy father's beard is turned white with the news ; you 
may buy land now as cheap as stinking mackarel. 

H. IV. PT. I. ii. 4. 
Pr'ythee, friend, 
Pour out the pack of matter to mine ear. 
The good and bad together. A.C. ii. 5. 

Where have you lurk'd, that you make doubt of it ? C. y. 4. 
What news, Lord Bardolph ? every minute now 
Should be the father of some stratagem ; 
The times are wild. H. IV. pt. ii. i. 1. 

Like an old tale still ; which will have matter to rehearse, 
though credit be asleep, and not an ear open. W. T. v. 2. 

How goes it now, Sir ; this news, which is called true, 
is so like an old tale, that the verity of it is in strong 
suspicion. W. T. v. 2. 

The nature of bad news infects the teller. A. C. i. 2. 

A\"ith news the time's with labour ; and throes forth 
Each minute, some. A. C. iii. 7, 

Thy letters have transported me beyond 
This ignorant present, and I feel now 

The future in the instant. M, i. 5, 

What a haste looks through his eyes ! 
So should he look, 
That seems tc speak things strange. M. i. 2, 

NEW IjialtBspiirliiii Sirtinniirii. ma 

NEWS, Stale, 

There needs no ghost, my lord, come from the grave, 

To tell us this. IT. i, 5, 

NEW Governor. 

Whether it be the fault and glimpse of newness ; 

Or whether that the body public be 

A horse whereon the governor doth ride, 

Who, newly in the seat, that it may know 

He can command, let^s it straight feel the spur : 

Whether the tyranny be in his place, 

Or in his eminence that fills it up, 

I stagger in: — But this new governor 

Awakes me all the enrolled penalties, 

Which have, like unscour'd armour, hung by the wall 

So long, that nineteen zodiacs have gone round, 

And none of them been worn ; and, for a name. 

Now puts the drowsy and neglected act 

Freshly on me. M. M. i. 3. 


Here's goodly gear ! R.J. ii. 4. 


When creeping murmur, and the poring dark. 

Fill the wide vessel of the universe. H. V. iv. chorus. 

The dragon wing of night o'er-spreads the earth. T. C. v. 9. 

The gaudy, blabbing, and remorseful day 

Is crept into the bosom of the sea ; 

And now loud howling wolves arouse the jades 

Who, wath their drowsy, slow, and flagging wings 

Clip dead men's graves, and from their misty jaws 

Breathe foul contagious darkness in the air. 

H. VL PT. II. iv. 1. 
Now o'er the one half world 
Nature seems dead, and wicked dreams abuse 
The curtain'd sleep ; now witchcraft cele])rates 
Pale Hecate's offerings : and wither'd murder, 
Alarum'd by his sentinel, the wolf, 
Whose howl's his watch, thus, with his stealthy pace, 
With Tarquin's ravishing strides, towards his design 
Moves like a ghost. M. ii. 1. 

Stumbling night. R J, v. 5. 

Look how the floor of heaven 
Is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold ; 
There's not the smallest orb which thou behold'st. 
But in his motion like an angel sings, 
Stijl quiring to the young ey'd cherubim. M.Y. r. 1- 


NIG lljitkEspiiiriiiH Dirtiniiiini. nig 

NIG HT, — continued. 

Vaporous night approaches. M. M, iv. 1. 

Now the hungry lion roars, 

And the wolf behowls the moon ; 
Whilst the heavy ploughman snores, 

All with weary task fore-done. 
Now the wasted brands do glow, 

Whilst the screech-owl, screeching loud, 
Puts the wretch that lies in w^oe. 

In remembrance of a shroud. 
Now it is the time of night, 

l^hat the graves all gaping wide, 
Every one lets forth his sprite, 

In the church-way paths to glide : 
And we fairies, that do run. 

By the triple Hecate's team. 
From the presence of the sun, 

Following darkness like a dream, 
Now are frolic ; not a mouse 
Shall disturb this hallow'd house : 
I am sent, with broom, before, 
To sweep the dust behind the door. M. N. v. 2. 

Come, gentle night ; come, loving, black-browM night. 

Give me my Romeo ; and, when he shall die, 

Take him, and cut him out in little stars, 

And he shall make the face of heaven so fine, 

That all the world will be in love with night, 

And pay no worship to the garish sun. R.J. iii.2. 

- The iron tongue of midnight hath told twelve: — 

Lovers to bed ; His almost fairy time. M. N. v. 1. 

To bed, to bed : Sleep kill those pretty eyes. 

And give as soft attachment to thy senses. 

As infants empty of all thought. T. C. iv. 2. 

Beshrew the witch : with venomous wights she stays. 

As tediously as hell ; but flies the grasps of love. 

With wings more momentary-swift than thought. T.C.\y.2 

Pitchy night. A. W. iv. 4. 

^Tis now the very witching time of night, 

V/hen churchyards yawn, and hell itself breathes out 

Contagion to the woi-ld. IL iii. 1. 

The time when screech-owls cry, and ban-dogs howl. 

H. VL PT. II. i. 4. 
Hark ! peace ! 
It was the owl that shrieked, the fatal bell-man. 
Which gives the sternest good night. M. ii.2. 

:^7 u* 

NIG |jiakt3|iEiiriiiHDirtiniiiini. nun 

NIGHT, — continued. 

Come, civil night, 
Thou sober-suited matron, all in black. B. J. iii. 2 


And to the nightingale^s complaining notes, 

Tune my distresses, and record my woes. T. G. v. 4 


He seems to be the more noble in being fantastical : a 
great man, TU warrant. W,T. iv. 3. 

Q, that your young nobility could judge, 
What ^twere to lose it, and be miserable ! 
They that stand high, have many blasts to shake them ; 
And if they fall, they dash themselves to pieces. 

B. Ill i. 3. 


A good nose is requisite, to smell out work for the other 
senses. W/T. iv. 3. 

All that follow their noses are led by their eyes, but blind 
men ; and there's not a nose among twenty but can smell 
him that's stinking. K. L. ii. 4. 

Fool. — Can^st tell, why one's nose stands i' the middle of 
his face? 

Lear. — No. 

Fool. — Why, to keep his eyes on either side his nose ; that 
wdiat a man ea-nnot smell out, he may spy into. K.L. i. 5*. 

There is a fellow somewhat near the door, he should be 
a brazier by his face, for o' my conscience, twenty of the 
dog-days now reign in's nose ; all that stand about him are 
under the line, they need no other penance. 


I will make a prief of it in my note book. M. W, i. 1 


That all, with one consent, praise new born gawds, 

Though they are made and moulded of things past; 

And give to dust, that is a little gilt, 

More laud than gilt o'er-dusted. 

The present eye praises the present object. T.C. iii. 3. 

New customs, 
Though they be never so ridiculous, 
Nay, let them be unmanly, yet are followed. H. YIIL i, 3L 


Question your desires ; 
Know of your youth, examine well your blood, 


NUN lljakBspEriiiE Dirtinimrif. oat 

N UN, — continued. 

Whether, if you yield not to your f^ither's choice, 

You can endure the livery of a nun; 

For aye to be in shady cloister raewM, 

To live a barren sister all your life, 

Chaunting faint hymns to the cold fruitless moon. 

Thrice blessed they, that master so their blood, 

To undergo such maiden pilgrimage ; 

But earthlier happy is the rose distill'd. 

Than that, which, withering on the virgin thorn, 

Grows, lives, and dies, in single blessedness. M. N. i. 1. 

I hold you as a thing ensky'd and sainted ; 

By your renonncennmt, an immortal spirit; 

And to be talk'd with in sincerity, 

As with a saint. M. M.'i. ^. 



The unwedgcable and gnarled oak. M.M. ii. 2. 

I have seen tempests, when the scolding winds 
Have riv'd the knotty oaks. J.C, i. o. 

— Aged. 

Under an oak whose boughs were moss'd with age, 

And high top bald with dry antiquity. A.Y, iv. 3. 

OITFIS (See also Lovers' Vows). 

No, not an oath : If not the f\ice of men, 
The sufferance of our souls, the time's abuse, — 
If these be motives weak, break oif betimes. 
And every man hence to his idle bed ; 
So let high-sighted tyranny range on, 
Till each man drop by letter}' : But if these, 
As I am sure they do, bear fire enough 
To kindle cowards, and to steel with valour 
The melting spirits of women ; then, countrymen, 
What need we any spur, but our own cause. 
To prick us to redress? what other bond.. 
Tlian secret Komans, that have spoke the word, 
And will not palter? and what other oath 
Than honestv to honosty engagM, 
That this shrill be, or we will fill for it ? 
Swear priests, and cowards, and men cautelous. 
Old feeble carrions, and such suffering souls 
That welcome wrongs ; unto bad causes swear 
Such creatures .as men doubt; but do not stain 
The even virtue of our enterprise. 

OAT IjntltEBpaxinii DirtinHnrif. ut 

OATHS, — continued. 

Nor the unsuppressive motal of our spirits, 

To think, that, or our cause, or our performance, 

Did need an oath ; when every drop of blood, 

That every Koman bears, and nobly bears, 

Is guilty of a several bastardy. 

If he do break the smallest particle 

Of any promise that hath pass'd from him. J,C. ii. 1. 

^Tis not the many oaths that make the truth ; 

But the plain single vow, that is vowM true. A. W. iv. 2. 

Not yours, in good sooth ! ^Heart, you swear like a com- 
fit-maker's wife 1 Not you, in good sooth ; and, As true as 
I live ; and. As God shall mend me ; and, As sure as day ; 
And giv'st such sarcenet surety for thy oaths, as if thou 
never walkMst further than Finsbury. Swear me, Kate, 
like a lady as thou art, a good mouth-tilling oath ; and leave 
in sooth, and such protest of pepper gingerbread, to velvet- 
guards, and Sunday citizens. H. IV, pr. i. iii. 1. 

Trust none ; 

For oaths are straws, men's faiths are wafer-cakes. 

And hold-fast is the only dog, my duck ; 

Therefore, caveto be thy counsellor. H.V. ii. 3. 

Myself, myself confound ! 
Heaven, and fortune, bar me happy hours ! 
Day, yield me not thy light ; nor night, thy rest! 
Be opposite, all planets of good luck, 
To my proceeding, if, with pure heart's love, 
Immaculate devotion, holy thoughts, 

I tender not thy beauteous princely daughter. E. III. iv. 4 
An oath, an oath ; I have an oath in heaven : 
Shall I lay perjury upon my soul? 

No, not for Venice. M. V. iv. 1. 

I'll take thy word for faith, not ask thine oath ; 
Who shuns not to break one, will sure crack both. 

F. P. i. 2. 
Do not believe his vows ; for they are brokers, 
Not of that die which their investments show, 
But mere implorators of unholy suits. 
Breathing like sanctified and pious bonds, 
The better to beguile. JT. i. 3 

Your oaths are past, and now subscribe your name, 
That his own hand may strike his honour down, 
• That violates the smallest branch herein. L. L. l 1. 

Come, swear it, damn thyself, 
Lest, being like one of heaven, the devils themselves 


OAT lljalvtspiiriati SirtinEanj* obl 

OAT IIS, — coniiaued. 

Should fear to seize thee : therefore be double-damn'd, 

Swear — thou art honest. 0. iv. 2. 

0, swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon, 

That monthly changes in her circled orb, 

Lest that thy love prove likewise variable. B, J. ii. 2. 

Look thou be true ; do not give dalliance 

Too much the rein ; the strongest oaths are straw 

To the fire i' the blood ; be more abstemious, 

Or else good night your vow. T. iv. 1. 

Thou see'st that all the grace that she hath left, 

Is that she wdll not add to her damnation 

A sin of perjury. She not denies it. M. A. iv. 1. 

I have no cunning in protestation ; only downright oaths, 

which I never use till urged, nor never break for urging, 

^.Kv. 2. 
He professes not keeping of oaths ; in breaking them, 

he is stronger than Hercules. A. W. iv. 3. 

It is a great sin, to swear unto a sin ; 

But greater sin, to keep a sinful oath. 

Who can be bound by any solemn vow 

To do a murderous deed, to rob a man, 

To force a spotless virgin's chastity. 

To ^ reave the orphan of his patrimony. 

To wrong the widow from her customed right ; 

And have no other reason for this wTong, 

But that he was bound by a solemn oath? 

H. YL PT. Ti. V. 1. 
By mine honour, I will ; and when I break that oath, let 

me turn monster. A.Y. i. 2. 

But if you swear by that that is not, you are not forsworn ; 

no more was the knight, swearing by his honour, for he 

pever had any. A. Y, i. 2. 

By all pretty oaths that are not dangerous. A. Y. iv. 1. 


A mote it is, to trouble the mind's eye. H.\,\. 

Old and Familiar. 

Now he thanks the old shepherd, which stands by, like 

a weather-bitten conduit of many kings^ reigns. 

W, T, V. 2. 

In the swallowing gulf 

Of dark forgetfulness and deep oblivion. R, III. iii. 7. 

And all the clouds that lowr'd upon our house 

In the deep bosom of the ocean buried. R, III. i. 1, 


oBL IlialtBBpiiiiiiii Sittiniiarti. off 


When time is old and hath forgot itself, 

When water-drops have worn the stones of Troy, 

And blind oblivion swallowed cities up, 

And mighty states characterless are grated 

To dusty nothing. T. C. iii. 2. 

The dark backward and abysm of Time. T. i. 2, 

He no more remembers his mother now, than an eight 

year old horse. C. v. 4. 


So play the foolish throngs with one that swoons, 

Come all to help him, and so stop the air 

By which he should revive : and even so. 

The general, subject to a well- wished king, 

Quit their own part, and in obsequious fondness 

Crowd to his presence, where their untaught love 

Must needs appear offence. M. M. ii.4. 


For he is but a bastard to the time. 

That doth not smack of observation. K. J. i. 1. 

There is a history in all men's lives 

Figuring the nature of the times deceased : 

The Avhicli obsorv'd, a man may prophecy, 

With a near aim, of the main cliance of things 

As yet to come to life ; which in their seeds, 

And weak beginnings, lie intreasured. H. lY, pt. ii. iii. 1. 

Squandering glances. • Jt.F. ii. 7. 


What a Ilerod of Jewry is this ! M. W. ii. 1. 

I have lived four score years and upward ; I never heard 
of a man of his place, gravity, and learning, so wide of his 
own respect. M. W. iii. 1. 

How oddly he is suited ! I think he bought his doublet 
in Italy, his round hose in France, his bonnet in Germanv, 
and his behaviour every where. M. V. i. 2. 


You are smelt 
Above the moon. C. v. 1. 


The very head and front of my offending 

Hath this extent, no more. 0. i. 3. 

How have I offended ? 
All's not offence that indiscretion finds. 
And dotage terms so. K. L. ii. 4. 

OFF lljakMpariiiii BirtinHEtti. ome 

OYFE^CE,,— continued. 

What is my offence ? 
Where is the evidence that doth accuse me ? 
AVhat lawful quest have given their verdict up 
Unto the frowning judge. R. TIL i. 4, 

In such a time as this, it is not meet 
That every nice offence should bear its comment. J.C. iv. 3. 


Having both the key of officer and office. T. i. 2. 

He was a fool ; 
For he would needs be virtuous : That good fellow, 
If I command him, follows my appointment ; 
I will have none so near else. Learn this, brother, 
We live not to be grip'd by meaner persons. II. VIII. ii. 2. 
Fear not your advancement ; I will be the man yet that 
shall make you great. II. IV. pt. ii. v. 5. 


If I am traduc'd by tongues, which neither know 

My fiiculties, nor person, yet will be 

The chronicles of my doing, — let me say, 

^Tis but the fate of place, and the rough brake 

That virtue must go through. We must not stint 

Our necessary actions, in the fear 

To cope malicious censurers ; which ever, 

As ravenous fishes, do a vessel follow 

That is new trimm'd ; but benefit no further 

Than vainly longing. AVhat we oft do best, 

By sick interpreters, (once weak ones) is 

Not ours, or not allowM ; what worst, as oft, 

Hitting a grosser quality, is cried up 

For our best act. If we shall stand still, 

In fear our motion will Ijo mock'd or carp'd at, 

We should take root here where we sit, or sit 

State statues only. H. VIII. i. 2 

Insolence OF, 

I'd have beaten him like a dog, but for disturbing the 
lords within. C. iv. 5. 

OMENS, (See also Portents). 

The bay trees in our country are all withered. 
And meteors fright the fixed'stars of heaven ; 
The pale-faced moon looks bloody on the earth. 
And lean-look\l prophets whisper fearful change ; 
Kich men look sad, and ruffians dance and leap. M.IL ii. 4, 
There is some ill a-brewing towards my rest, 
For I did dream of money-bags to-night. M. V ii.5, 


OMN |l;iikrii|iBnrinii Biitiiiiinrti, opi 

OMNIPOTENCE, Inscrutable. 

He that of greatest works is finisher, 

Oft does them by the weakest minister: 

So holy writ in babes hath judgment shown 

When judges have been babes. A. W. ii. 1. 


I must be found ; 
My parts, my title, and my perfect soul, 
Shall manifest me rightly. 0. i. 2. 

OPHELIA Drowning. 

There is a willow grows aslant a brook, 

That shows his hoar leaves in the glassy stream ; 

There, with fantastic garlands did she come, 

Of crow-flowers, nettles, daisies, and long purples, 

That liberal shepherds give a grosser name. 

But our cold maids do dead men's fingers call them. 

There on the pendant boughs her coronet weeds 

Clamb'ring to hang, an envious sliver broke ; 

When down her weedy trophies, and herself, 

Fell in the weeping brook. Her clothes spread wide ; 

And mermaid-like, awhile they bore her up : 

"Which time she chanted snatches of old tunes ; 

As one incapable of her own distress, 

Or like a creature native and cndu'd 

Unto that element : but long it could not be, 

Till that her garments, heavy with tlicir drink", -^ 

Puird the poor wretch from her melodious lay, 

To muddy death. //. IV, 7. 

OPINION (See also Censure.) 

I am that I am, and they that level 
At my abuses, reckon up their owne, 
I may be straight, though they themselves be bevell. 
By their rank thoughts, my deeds mu;-t not be showne : 
Unless this general evil they maintaine. 
All men are bad, and in their badness raigne. Poems, 

Because you want the grace that others have, 
You judge it straight a thing impossible 
To compass w^onders, but by help of devils. 

ILVL PT. I. V. 4. 

There's nothing good or bad, but thinking makes it so. 

i/. ii. 2. 
Our virtues 
Lie in the interpretation of tlie time. C. iv. 7. 

Opinion, a sovereign mistress of effects. 0, i. 3 


opi |liakr0|iniriiiH SirtiniiiiTii> opp 

OPINION, —conlumcd. 

But iish not v,ith this raolancholy bait, 
Fur this fooFs gudgeon, this opinion. 3L V. i. 1. 

Opinion's but a fool, that makes us scan 
The outward habit for the inward man. P. P. ii. 2. 

A pUigue of opinion ! a man may wear it on both sides, 
like a leather jerkin. T. O.iii 3. 

OPPORTUNITY (See also Belay, Irresolution, Neglect). 
Tliere is a tide in the aiiairs of men, 

Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune ; / 

Omitted, all the voyage of their life '"^ 

Ii bound in shallows, and in miseries. 
On such a full sea are wo now afloat ; 
And we must take tlie current when it serves. 
Or lose out ventures. /.Civ. 3. 

Who seeks, and will not take, vrhon once ^tis ofibr'd, 
Shall never find it more. A.O. ii. 7. 

When the sun shines, let foolish gnats make sport, 
But creep in crannies, when he hides his beams. 

a E. ii. 2. 
A little* fire is quieklj^ trodden out; 
W^liich, being suffeiM, rivers cannot quench. 

H. VL PT. III. iv. 8. 
The means that heaven yields must be cmbrac'd, 
And not neglected ; else, if heaven would, 
And we will not, hetiven's olfer we refuse. R. II. iii. 2. 

I find my zenith doth depend upon 
A most Eiuspicious star ; whose in line ace 
If now I court not, but omit, my fortunes 
Will ever after droop. ' T. i. 2 


Bade, I say, go ; lest I lot forth your half pint of blood ;— 
back, — that's the utmost of your having : — back. C. v. 2. 


I love not to see wretchedness o^crcharg'd. 

And duty in his service perishing. M.I^. v. 1. 

I am an ass, indeed ; you may prove it by my long ears. 
I have served him from the hour (;f my nativity to this in- 
stant, and have notliing at his hands for my service, but 
blows; when I am col I, he heats me with beating: when 
I am warm, he C'>ols me with ])eating ; I am awa.k'd witn 
it, when [ sleep ; ruisM with it, wiien I sit ; driven out of 
doors v.dtli it, wlien I g > from heme ; welcomed heme with 
it, when I return: nay, 1 hoar it on nrj shoulders, as a 
::(:5 23 

opp llialtEspariaii I)irtinuan[. ord 

OFF'RESSION,— continued. 

beg<^ar her beat ; and, I think, when he hath lam'd me, I 
shall beg with it from door to door. C. E. iv. 4. 

Each new morn, 
New widows howl, new orphans cry, new sorrows 
Strike heaven on the face. M. iv. 2 


To whom do lions cast their gentle looks ? 
Not to the beast that would usurp their den. 
Whose hand is that the forest bear doth lick ? 
Not his, that spoils her young before her face. 
Who 'scapes the lurking serpent's mortal sting? 
Not he that sets his foot upon her back. 
The smallest worm will turn, being trodden on, 
. And doves will peck, in safeguard of their brood. 

H. VI. PT. III. ii. 2- 
The poor wren, 
The most diminutive of birds, will fight. 
Her young ones in the nest, against the owl. M. iv. 2. 

OPTICS (See Eye). 

ORATION, Pedantic. 

Taffeta phrases, silken terms precise, 

Three pil'd hyperboles, spruce affectation. 
Figures pedantical ; these summer flies 

Have blown me full of maggot ostentation. L. L v. 2 


Doubt not, my lord ; I'll play the orator, 

As if the golden fee, for which I plead, 

Were for myself. R. III. iii. 5, 

ORATORY, Popular. 

For in such business, 
Action is eloquence, and the eyes of the ignorant 
More learned than their ears. C. iii. 2. 

Pray, be content ; 
Mother, I am going to the market-place ; 
Chide me no more. I'll mountebank their loves, 
Cog their hearts from thom, and come home belov'd 
Of all the trades in Rome. C. iii. 2 


^^ Degree being vizarded, 
The unworthiest shows as fairly in the mask. 
The heavens themselves, the planets, and this centre, 
Observe degree, priority, and place, 
Tnsisture, course, proportion, season, form, 

ORD llmkEHpErian Dirtinnnrtf. ord 

on DER, — continued. 

Office, and custom, in all line of order : 

And therefore is the glorious planet, Sol, 

In noble eminence enthroned and sphered 

Amidst the other ; whose med'cinable eye 

Corrects the ill aspects of planets evil, 

And posts, like the commandment of a king, 

Sans check, to good and bad : But when the planets, 

In evil mixture, to disorder wander. 

What plagues, and what portents ! what mutiny I 

What raging of the sea 1 shaking of earth ! 

Commotion in the winds ! frights, changes, horrors, 

Divert and crack, rend and deracinate 

The unity and married calm of states 

Quite from their fixture ! 0, when degree is shakM, 

Which is the ladder of all high designs, 

The enterprise is sick! How could communities, 

Degrees in schools, and brotherhoods in cities, 

Peaceful commerce from divided shores, 

The primogeniture and due of birth, 

Prerogative of age, crowns, sceptres, laurels. 

But by degree, stand in authentic place ? 

Take but degree away, untune that string, , 

And, hark, what discord follows ! each thing meets 

In mere oppugnancy : The bounded waters 

Should lift their bosoms higher than the shores. 

And make a sop of all this solid globe: 

Strength should be lord of imbecility, 

And the rude son should strike his father dead : 

Force should be right ; or, rather, right and wrong 

(Between whose endless jar justice resides) 

Should lose their names, and so should justice too. 

Then every thing includes itself in power, 

Power into will, will into appetite : 

And appetite, a universal wolf. 

So doubly seconded with will and power, 

Must make perforce a universal prey, 

And, last, eat up himself. Great Agamemnon ; 

This chaos, when degree is suffocate, 

Follows the choking: 

And this neglection of degree it is, 

That by a pace goes backward, with a purpose 

Ir hath to climb. The general's disdain'd 

By him one step below ; he, by the next; 

That next, by him beneath : so every step, 

E sampled by the first pace that is sick 

Of his superior, grows to an envious fever 

Of pale and bloodless emulation. T,C, i. 3. 

OED lijEkispitnaii Sirtinnnrii. oth 

ORDER, — co7itinued. 

The world is still deceivM with ornament. 

In law, what plea so tainted and corrupt, 

But, being seasonM with a gracious voice, 

Obscures the show of evil? In religion, 

What damned error, but some sober brow 

Will bless it, and approve it with a text. 

Hiding the grossness with fair ornament ? M, V, iii. 2, 


Thus ornament is but the guiled shore 

To a most dangerous sea ; the beauteous scarf 

Veiling an Indian beauty ; in a word. 

The seeming truth which cunning times put on 

To entrap the wisest. M. V. iii. 2, 

OTHELLO'S Apology. 

Rude am I in speech, 
And little bless'd with the soft phrase of peace ; 
Eor since these arms of mine had seven years' pith, 
Till now some nine moons wasted, they have us'd 
Their dearest action in the tented field ; 
And little of this great world can I speak. 
More than pertains to feats of broil and battle ; 
And therefore little shall I grace my cause, 
III speaking for myself: Yet, by your gracious patience, 
I will a round unvarnish'd tale deliver 
Of my whole course of love ; what drugs, what charms, 
What conjuration, and what mighty magic, 
(For such proceeding I am charg'd withal) 
1 won his daughter Avith. 

Her father lov'd me ; oft invited me ; 
Still questioned me the story of my life. 
From year to year ; the battles, sieges, fortunes, 
That I have pass'd. 

I ran it through, even from my boyish days, 
To the very moment that he bade me tell it. 
YV^hcrein I spoke of most disastrous chances, 
Of moving accidents by flood and held ; ■ 
Of hair-breadth 'scapes i' the imminent deadly breach ; 
Of being taken by the insolent foe, 
And sold to slavery ; of my redemption thence, 
A^nd portance in my travel's history : 
Wherein of antres vast, and desarts Avild, 
Rough quarries, rocks, and hills whose heads touch heaven. 
It was my hint to speak. Such was my process ; 
And of the cannibals that each other eat, 
T'le Anthropqphagi, and men whose heads 
Do grow beneath their shoulders. These things to hear, 

oTii lljaltESiiBiiriiiH Dirtinimti}. otu 

OTHELLO'S AvoLOGY—continned. 

Would Desdcmona seriously iiiclino: 

But still tiie house aifairs would draw her thence ; 

Yvdiich ever as she could with haste despatch, 

She'd come again, and with a greedy ear 

]>evour up my discourse : Which I observing, 

Took once a pliant hour ; and found good means 

To draw Iron! her a prayer of earnest heart, 

That I would all my pilgrimage dilate, 

Vv^hereof by parcels she had something heard, 

But not distinctively. I did consent ; 

And often did beguile her of her tears, 

When I did speak of some distressful stroke, 

I'hat my youth suiier'd. My story being done, 

She gave me for my pains a world of sighs ; 

S!ie swore, — In faith, 'twas strange, 'twas passing strange,. 

'Twas pitiful, Hwas wondrous pitiful: 

She wish'd' she had not heard it ; yet she wish'd 

That heaven had made her such a man. She thank'd me ; 

And bade me, if I liad a friend that lov'd her, 

I should but teach him how to tell my story, 

And that would woo her. Upon this hint I spake ; 

She lov'd me for the dangers I had pass'd ; 

And I lov'd her, that she did pity them : 

Tliis only is the witchcraft I have us'd ; 

Here comes the lady, let her witness it. 0. i. 3 


now, for ever. 
Farewell the tranquil mind ! Farevv ell content ! 
Farewell the plumed tro(^p, and the big wars, 
j'hat make ambition virtue 1 0, farewcdi ! 
lareweli the neighing steed, and the shrill trump, 
The spirit-stirring drum, the ear-piercing life, 
^fhe ro3'al banner ; and all quality, 
1^-ide, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war! 
And, 0, you mortal eit.gines, whose rude throats 
The immortal Jove's dread clamours counteribit, 
Farewell !— Otiielio's occupation's gone ! 0. iii. 8. 


Tliere's magic in the web of it: 
A syliil, that had numb^r'd in the world 
The sun to make two hundred compasses. 
In her prophetic fury sew'd the work: 
The worms were hallow'd that did breed the silk ; 
And it was dy'd in mummy, which the skilful 
Conserv'd of maidens' hearts. 0. iii. 4. 

2GJ 23* 

ovE IjialtEHjiriiriiiii Birtinnart}. pai 


If there were not two or three and fifty upon poor old 
Jack, I am no two-legged creature- H.IV, pt. i. ii. 4. 


I am one my liege, 
AVhom the vile blows and buffets of the world 
Have so incens'd, that I am reckless what 
I do to spite the world. M. iii. 1. 

So weary with disasters, tugg'd with fortune, 
That I would set my life on any chance 
To mend it, or be rid on't. M. iii. 1. 

Sick in the world's ref2;ard, wretched, and low, 
A poor unminded outlaw. H. IV. pt. i. iv. 3,. 


Why, this passes, Mister Ford : you are not to go loose 

any longer, you must be pinioned. M. W. iv. 2. 

Why, this is lunatics. M. W. iv. 2. 


Thou art not vanquished," 
But cozen'd and beguil'd. K. L. v. 3. 



Each word thou hast spoke hath weeded from my heart 
A root of antient envy. C. iv. 5. 

0, let me twine 
Mine arms about that body, where against 
My grained ash an hundred times hath broke, 
And scarr'd the moon with splinters ! C. iv 5. 

PAINTING (See also Portrait). 

Dost thou love pictures ? We will fetch thee straight 
Adonis, painted by a running brook : 
And Cytherea, all in sedges hid ; 
Which seem to move and wanton with her breath, 
Even as the waving sedges play with wind. 
We'll show thee lo, as she was a maid ; 
And how she was beguiled and surpris'd, 
As lively painted as the deed was done. 
Or Daphne, roaming through a thorny wood ; 
Scratching her legs that one shall swear she bleeds; 
And at that sight shall sad Apollo weep. 
So workmanly the blood and tears are drawn. T. S. Ind. 2. 

PAi IjjnlvrHjirnriiiii Siriininirtf. par 

PxVl^^TlNG —CO 7itmued. 

Painting is welcome, 
The painting is almost the natural man ; 
For since dishonour traificks with man's naturu, 
lie is but outside : These pencird figures are 
Ev'n such as they give out. T. A. i. 1. 

It is a pretty mocking of the life. T. A, i. 1. 

I'll say of it 
It tutors nature : artificial strife 
Lives in these touches, livelier than life. T. A. i. 1. 

How this grace 
Speaks his own standing ! what a mental power 
This eye shoots forth ! How big imagination 
Moves in this lip ! to the dumbness of the gesture 
One might interpret. T. A. i. 1 

Timon. — Wrought he not well that painted this ? 
Apemanhis. — He Avrought better that made the painter; 
and yet he's but a filthy piece of work. T. A. i. 1 


Some sins do bear their privilege on earth, 

And so doth your's. K.J. i. 1, 


Day-light and champian discovers not more. T.N. ii. 5. 


Norweyan banners flout the sky, — 
And fan our people cold. • M. i. 2. 


You undergo too strict a paradox, 

Striving to make an ugly deed look fair. T.A. iii. 5. 


These are old fond paradoxes, to make fool's laugh i' the 
alehouse. 0. ii. i. 

PARASITES (See also Flattery). 

1\hat, Sir, which serves and seeks for gain, (^ 

And follows but for form. 
Will pack, when it begins to rain, 

And leave thee in the storm. K. L. ii. 4, 

0, you gods ! what a number 
Of men eat Timon, and he sees them not ! 
It grieves me, to see so many dip their meat 
In one man's blood ; and all the madness is, 
He cheers them up too. T.A. i. 2, 


PAR IjinkisjiBEriiiii Diriinirarii. par 


^Tis such as you, 
That creep like shadows by him, and do sigh 
At each his needless heavings, — such as you 
, Nourish the cause of his awakings : I 
Do come with words as med'cinal as true, 
Honest, as either ; to purge him of that humour 
That presses him from sleep. W.T, ii. 3. 

It is the curse of kings, to be attended 
,By slaves, that take their humour for a warrant 
To break within the bloody house of life ; 
And, on the winking of authority. 
To understand a law : to know the meaning 
Of dangerous majesty, when, perchance, it frowns 
More upon honour than ad vis' d respect. K. J. iv. 2. 

Teast-won, fast-lost ; one cloud of winter showers : 
These flies are couch'd. T.A. ii. 2. 

To me you cannot reach, you play the spaniel. 
And think with wagging of your tongue to win me 
But whatso'er thou tak'st me for, I am sure 
Thou hast a cruel nature, and a bloody. H. VIIL v. 2. 

villains, vipers, damn'd without redemption ! 
Dogs, easily vv^on to fawn on any man I 
Snakes, in my heart-blood warm'd, that sting my heart ! 

E. II iii. 2. 
When the rain came to wet me once, and the wind to 
make me chatter ; when the thunder would not peace at my 
bidding ; there I found them, there I smelt them out. Go 
to, they are not men o^ their words : they told me I was 
every thing ; — ^tis a lie ; I'm not ague-proof. K, L. iv. 6. 

May you a better feast never behold, 

You knot of mouth-friends ! Smoke and luke-warm water 

Is your perfection. This is Timon's last ; 

Who stuck and spangled you with flatteries, 

Washes it off, and sprinkles in your faces 

Your reeking villainy. Live loath'd, and long, 

Most smiling, smooth, detested parasites, 

Courteous destroyers, affiible wolves, meak bears, 

You fools of fortune, trencher friends, time's flics, 

Cap and knee slaves, vapours, and minute-jacks! 

Of man, and beast, the infinite malady 

Crust you quite o'er' T.A. ii. 6. 


Yes, I do think that you might pardon him. 
And neither heaven nor man grieve at the mercy. 

M.M ii.2. 


PAR IjniItEspiiriiin Dirtinnnrii* par 

PARENTAL Affection (See also Affliction). 
How sometimes nature will betray its folly, 
Its tenderness, and make itself a pastime 
To harder bosoms ! Looking on the lines 
Of my boy's face, methought I did recoil 
Twenty-three years, and saw myself unbreechM, 
In my green velvet coat ; my dagger muzzled, 
Lest it should bite its master, and so prove 
As ornaments oft do, too dangerous. W. T. i. 2. 

You have no children, butchers ! if you had. 

The thought of them would have stirr'd up remorse. 

H,VL FT. iii.v. 5. 
And my young boy 
Ilath an aspect of intercession, which 
Great nature cries, deny not. C. v. 3 . 

Unreasonable creatures feed their young : 
And though man's face be fearful to their eyes, 
Yet in protection of their tender ones, 
AVho hath not seen them (even with those wings 
Which sometimes they have us'd with fearful tiiglit) 
Make war with him that climbed unto their nest, 
Offering their own lives in their young's defence ? 

H. VL PT. III. ii. 2. 


God speed the parliament ! H. VL ft. i. iii. 2, 


Truly, madam, he holds Belzebub at the stave's end, as 
well as a man in his case may do. T. N. v. 1. 

Thou knowest my old ward ; — here I lay, and thus I bore 
my point. H. IV. ft. i. ii. 4. 


Parting is such sweet sorrow, 
That I shall say — good night, till it be morrow. R. J. ii. 2. 

For so long 
As he could make me with this eye or ear 
Distinguish him from others, he did keep 
The deck, with glove, or hat, or handkerchief, 
Still waving, as the fits or stirs of his mind 
Could best express how slow his soul sail'd on, 
IIow swift his ship. Ci/m. i 4 

Farewell ! the leisure and the fearful time 
Cuts off the ceremonious vows of love, 
And ample interchange of sweet discourse, 
Which so long sundcr'd friends should dwell upon j 

PAR Iliiikt3|itariiin BirtinEEtii. par 

VMlTim,— continued. 

God give us leisure for these rites of love ! 

Once more, adieu ! B. Ill, v. 3. 

0, my lord, 
Must I then leave you ? Must I needs forego 
So good, so noble, and so true a master ? 
Bear witness, all that have not hearts of iron, 
With what a sorrow Cromwell leaves his lord. 
The king shall have my service ; but my prayers. 
For ever, and for ever, shall be yours. H. VIII. iii. 2. 

Farewell ! God knows when we shall meet again. 
I have a faint cold fear thrills through my veins, 
That almost freezes up the heat of life. B. J, ii. 2. 

And even there, his eyes being big with tears, 

Turning his face, he put his hand behind him, 

And with affection wondrous sensible, 

He wrung Bassanio's hand, and so they parted. M. K ii. 8. 

I would have broke mine eye-strings ; crack'd them, but 

To look upon him ; till the diminution 

Of space had pointed him sharp as my needle ; 

Nay, followed him, till he had melted from 

The smallness of a gnat, to air ; and then 

Have turn'd mine eye, and wept. Ct/m, i. 4. 

What! gone without a word? 
Ay, so true love should do : it cannot speak ; 
For truth had better deeds than words, to grace it. 

We make woe wanton with this foul delay ; 

Once more, adieu ! the rest let sorrow say. B, 11. v. 1 

An^ whether we shall meet again, I know not. 

Therefore, our everlasting farewell take : — 

For ever, and for ever, farewell, Cassius ! 

If ever we do meet again, why we shall smile ; 

If not, why then this parting was well made. J.C. v. 1. 

Should we be taking leave 
As long a term as yet we have to live, 

The loathness to depart would grow. Cym, i. 2. 

We two, that with so many thousand sighs 
Did buy each other, must poorly sell ourselves 
With the rude brevity and discharge of one. 
Injurious time, now with a robber's haste, 
Crams his rich thievery up, he knows not how ; 
As many farewells as be stars in heaven. 
With distinct breath and consigned kisses to them, 
He fumbles up into a loose adieu ; 


PAP itjak^spariau Sittiniiaitf. par 


And scants us with a single famish'd kiss, 

Distasted with the salt of broken tears. T. C. iv. 4. 

Portia, adieu ! I have too grieved a heart 

To take a tedious leave. M. V, ii. 7. 

At once, good night: — 

Stand not upon the order of your going, 

But go at once. M. iii. 4 

* Come ; 

Our separation so abides, and flies, 

That thou, residing here, go'st yet with me, 

And I, hence fleeting, here remain with thee. A»0. i. 3. 

And so, without more circumstance at all, 

I hold it fit, that we shake hands and part ; 

You, as your business, and desire, shall point you: — 

For every man hath business, and desire. 

Such as it is, — and for mine own poor part. 

Look you, I will go pray. H. i. 5. 

'Tis almost morning, I would have thee gone : 

And yet no further than a wanton's bird ; 

Who lets it hop a little from her hand. 

Like a poor prisoner in his twisted gyves. 

And with a silk thread plucks it back again. 

So loving jealous of his liberty. E. J. ii. 2. 

Here is my hand for my true constancy ; 

And when that hour o'er-slips me in the day, 

Wherein I sigh not, Julia, for thy sake, 

The next ensuing hour some foul mischance 

Torment me for my love's forgetfulness. T. G. ii. 2, 

Wilt thou begone ? it is not yet near day : 

It was the nightingale, and not the lark. 

That pierc'd the fearful hollow of thine ear ; 

Nightly she sings on yon pomegranate tree ; 

Beheve me, love, it was the nightingale. R. J, iii. 5. 

I did not take my leave of him, but had 

Most pretty things to say : ere I could tell him. 

How I would think on him, at certain hours. 

Such thoughts, and such ; * * * 

^ ^ * or have charg'd him, 

At the sixth hour of morn, at noon, at midnight, 

T' encounter me with orisons ; for then, 

I am in heaven for him ; or ere I could 

Give him that parting kiss, which I had set 
' Betwixt two charming words, comes in my father. 

And, like the tyrannous breathing of the north, 

Shakes all our buds from growing. C^/m. i. 4, 

PAR Ijiakruiiriirinii SirtinnEni. pat 


Tend me to-night ; 
May be, it is the period of you? duty ; 
Ilaply, you shall not see me more ; or if. 
A mangled shadow : perchance, to-morrow, 
You'll serve another master I look on you, 
As one that takes his leave. Mine honest friends ; 
I turn you not away ; but, like a master, 
Married to your good service, stay till death. A. C. iv 2. 

PARTY Rancour. 

These days are dangerous ! 
Virtue is chok'd with foul ambition, 
And charity chased hence by rancour's hand. 

11. VL PT. II. iii. 1. 


All the more it seeks to hide itself, 

The bigger bulk it shows. T, iii. 1. 

PASSIONS, Conflicting (See also Emotions). 

Thou think'st 'tis much that this contentious storm 

Invades us to the skin : so 'tis to thee ; 

But where the greater malady is tix'd, 

The lesser is scarce felt. Thou'dst shun a bear : 

But if thy flight lay towards the raging sea, 

Thou'dst meet a bear i' the mouth. When the mind's free, 

The body's delicate : the tempest in my mind 

Doth from my senses take all feeling else, 

Save what beats there. K. L. iii. 4. 

PASSIONS, Guilty. ^ 

Poor chastity is rifled of her store, 

And lust, the thief, far poorer than before. Poems, 


This will be pastime passing excellent 

If it be husbanded with modesty. T. S. Ind. 1« 

Say, what abridgment have you for this evening ? 
What mask? what music? How shall we beguile 
The lazy time, if not with some delight? M. K. v. 1. 

Courtsliip, pleasant jest and courtesy, 
As bombast, and as lining to the time. L. L. v. 2, 


Any thing that's mended, is but patched : virtue, thali 
transgresses, is but patched with sin ; and sin, that amends 
is but patched with virtue. T. .K i, 5. 

PAT |ljnkrjj|iMriait Birtiiiiiiinf. pat 

He, that would have a cake out of the wheat, must tarry 
the grinding. T.C. i. 1. 

Though patience be a tired mare, yet she will plod. 

i/.r. ii.i. 

IIoAV poor are they that have not patience ! 

What wound did ever heal but by degrees ? 

Thou know'st we work by wit, and not by witchcraft ; 

And wit depends on dilatory time. O. ii. 3. 

Thou young and rose-lipp'd cherubim. 0. iv. 2 

I do note, 
That grief and patience, rooted in him both, 
Mingle their spurs together. Cym. iv. 2. 

Grow, patience ! 
And let the stinking elder, grief, untwine 
llis perishing root, with the increasing vine. Cym. iv. 2. 
Cease to lament for that thou canst not help. 
And study help from that which thou lament^st. 
Time is the nurse and breeder of all good. T,G, iii. 1. 

So let the Turk of Cj^prus us beguile ; 

AVe lose it not, so long as we can smile, 

lie bears the sentence well, that nothing bears 

]^ut the free comfort which from thence he hears : 

But he bears both the sentence and the sorrow. 

That, to pay grief, must of poor patience borrow. 0. i. 3, 

Nay, patience, or we break the sinews of our plot. 

T, N. ii. 5. 
That which in mean men we entitle patience, 
Is pale cold cowardice in noble breasts. R. II. i. 2. 

0, gentle son, 
Upon the heat and flame of thy distemper, 
Sprinkle cool patience. H. ii. 4. 

Signior Antonio, many a time and oft. 

On the Kialto, you have rated me 

About my monies, and my usances : 

Still I have borne it with a patient shrug: 

For sufferance is the badge of all our tribe. M.V. i. 3« 

Patience, unmov'd, no marvel though she pause ; 

They can be meek that have no other cause. 

A wretched soul, bruis'd with adversity, 

We bid be quiet when we hear it cry ; 

But were we burthen'd with like weight of pain. 

As much, or more, we should ourselves complain. 

(7. E. ii. 1. 

277 24 

PAT IjjakrGpraniiii JCirtinnani, pea 

FATIENCI^,— continued. 

I have her sovereign aid, 
And rest myself content. T, v. 1. 

I do oppose 
My patience to his fury; and am arm'd 
To suffer with a quietness of spirit, 
The very tyranny and rage of his. if. F. iv. 1. 

Henceforth, I'll bear 
Affliction, till it do cry out itself. 
Enough, enough, and die. K, L. iv. 6 


If it be aught toward the general good. 

Set honour in one eye, and death i' the other, 

And I will look on both indifferently : 

Eor, let the gods so speed me, as I love 

The nauie of honour, more than I fear death. J. C. i. 2^ 

I am the son of Marcus Cato, ho ! 

A foe to tyrants and my country^s friend. J. C. v. 4. 

There was a Brutus once, that would have brook'd 

The eternal devil to keep his state in Rome, 

As easily as a king. J.C.'i. 2. 

Our subjects, Sir, 
Will not endure his yoke. Cym. iii. 5. 


momentary grace of mortaLmen, 

Which we more hunt for than the grace of God ! 

B. Ill iii. 4. 


Look, he is winding up the watch of his wit ; by and bj 
it will strike. T. ii. 1. 


He is well paid, that is well satisfied. if. F. iv. 1. 

Fair payment for foul words, is more than due, L.L. iv. 1. 


Fie, lords ! that you, being supreme magistrates, 
Thus contumeliously should break the peace. 

H. VL PT. I. i. 3. 
Nothing but peace and gentle visitation. i. L, v. 2. 

In her days, every man shall eat in safety. 
Under his own vine, what he plants ; and sing 
The merry songs of peace to all his neighbours. 


PEA IjifikEsptariiiii Birtiniiaiii. pea 

PEACE, — continued , 

Peace be to France ; if France in peace permit 

Our just and lineal entrance to our own I 

If not ; bleed France, and peace ascend to heaven. 

Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths ; 
Our bruised arms hung up for monuments ; 
Our stern alarums chang'd to merry meetings, 
Our dreadful marches to delightful measures. 
Grim visag'd war hath smooth'd his wrinkled front ; 
And now, — instead of mounting barbed steeds, 
To fright the souls of fearful adversaries, — 
He capers nimbly, in a lady's chamber, 
T^ the lascivious pleasing of a lute. B. Ill, i. 1. 

A peace is of the nature of a conquest; 

For then both parties nobly are subdued. 

And neither party loser. H. IV. ft. ii. iv. 2. 

Now is the winter of our discontent 

Made glorious summer by this sun of York ; 

And all the clouds that lowered upon our house. 

In the deep bosom of the ocean buried. R, III, i. 1. 

The sea being smooth, 
How many shallow bauble boats dare sail 
Upon her patient breast, making their way 
With those of nobler bulk. T. C, i. 3 

Keep peace, upon your lives ; 
lie dies, that strikes again. What is the matter ? 

K. L, ii. 2. 
If I unwittingly, or in my rage. 
Have aught committed that is hardly borne 
By any in this presence, I desire 
To reconcile me to his friendly peace : 
^Tis death to me, to be at enmity ; 
I hate it, and desire all good men's love. BJIL ii. 1. 

Who should study to preserve a peace 
If holy churchmen take delight in broils ? 

II. VI, PT. I. iii. 1 
Peace be to me, and every one that dares not fight. 

L. i. i. 1. 
In peace, there's nothing so becomes a man, 
As modest stillness, and humility. H.Y, iii. 1. 

What, drawn, and talk of peace ? B, J, i. 1. 

This peace is nothing, but to rust iron, increase tailors, 
and breed ballad-makers. C, iv. 5, 

PEA |liiikB3|iEiiriaE Sirtintiartf. rm 

PEACE, — continued. 

Peace is a very apoplexy, lethargy : mulled, deaf, sleepy, 
insensible. C. iv. 5. 

Still, in thy right hand, carry gentle peace. H. VIII. iii. 2. 

M}^ tongue shall hush again this storm of war. 

And make fair weather in your blust'ring land. K.J, v. 1. 

Thy threatening colours now wind up, 

And tame the savage spirit of wild war ; 

That, like a lion fostered up at hand. 

It may lie gently at the foot of peace, 

And be no further harmful than in show. K. J. v. 2. 


Like a pedant, that keeps a school i^ the church. 

T. K iii. 2. 


Idle words, servants to shallow fools, 

Unprofitable sounds, weak arbitrators ! 
Busy yourselves in skull-contending schools ; 

Debate, where leisure serves, with dull debaters. 



He hath ribands of all the colours i^ the rainbow; points 
more than all the lawyers in Bohemia can learnedly handle, 
though they come to him by the gross ; inkles, caddisses, 
cambrics, laAvns : why, he sings them over, as they were 
gods or goddesses ; you would think, a smock were a she- 
angel ; he so chaunts to the sleeve hand, and the work about 
the square on't. W.T. iv. 3. 


By penitence the EternaFs wrath's appeas'd. T. G. v. 4. 

The breath of heaven hath blown his spirit out, 

And strew'd repentant ashes on his head. K. J. iv. 1, 


The people are the city. C. iii. 1. 


What ! are men mad ? Hath nature given them eyes. 

To see this vaulted arch, and the rich crop 

Of sea and land, which can distinguish Hwixt 

The fiery orbs above, and the twinn'd stones 

Upon the unnumber'd beach ; and can we not 

Partition make, with spectacles so precious, 

^Twixt fair and foul ? Cyw. i. 7. 

PER ijialvtspBEriiiii Dirtinniirti- per 


I'll be damned for ne'er a king's son in Christendom. 

thou sun, 
Burn the great sphere thou mov'st in ! darkling stand 
The varying shore o' the world I A.C. iv. 13. 


More than report can promise, fancy blazon. 

Is true perfection. Poems, 

Is this your perfectness ? — begone, you rogue. L. L. v. 2. 

■ , Female. 

She that was ever fair, and never proud ; 
Had tongue at will, and yet was never loud ; 
Never lack'd gold, and yai went never gay ; 
ITed from her wish, and yet said, Now I may , 
She that, being anger'd, her revenge being nigh, 
Rade her wrong stay, and her displeasure fly : 

* ^ -^f * -x- 

She that could think, and ne'er disclose her mind, 

See suitors following, and not look behind. 0. ii. 1. 


Now happy he, whose cloak and cincture can 

Hold out this tempest. K. J. iv. 3. 

For mine own part, I have not a case of lives ; the humour 
of it is too hot, that is the very plain-song of it. 

H. V. iii. 2. 

Thus pour the stars down plagues for perjury ! L. L. v. 2. 


Sure one of you does not serve heaven well ; that you 
are so crossed. M. W. iv. 5. 


God, defend me ! how am I beset 1 

What kind of catechizing call you this ? M, A. iv. 1, 

Disloyal? No: 
She's punish'd for her truth ; and undergoes, 
More goddess-like than wifo-like, such assaults 
As would take in some virtue. Ci/m. iii. 2. 


Perseverance, dear my lord. 
Keeps honour bright : To have done, is to hang 
Quite out of fashion, like a rusty mail 
in monumental mockery. T. C. iii. 3, 

281 24* 

PER lljakispturiiitt Uirtinnani. per 

PERSEVERANCE,— con/mi/et^. 

Do not, for one repulse, forego the purpose 

That you resolved to effect. T. iii. 3, 


These things seem small, and undistinguishable. 

Like far-off mountains turned into clouds. M. N. iv. 1. 


Nay, I will ; that's flat : 
He said, he would not ransom Mortimer ; 
Torbade my tongue to speak of Mortimer ; 
But I will lind him when he lies asleep, 
And in his ear I'll holla, — Mortimer ! H. IV. pt. i. i. 3. 
Let them pull all about mine ears ; present me 
Death on the Avbeel, or at wild horses^ heels ; 
Or pile ten hills on the Tarpeian rock, 
That the precipitation might down stretch 
Below the beam of sight, — yet will I still 
]>o thus to them. C. iii. 2. 

You'll ask me, why I rather choose to have 
A weight of carrion flesh, than to receive 
Three thousand ducats : Pll not answer that : 
But say, it is my humour ; Is it answer^ ? M. V. iv. 1, 

Speak of Mortimer ! 
Zounds, I will speak of him : and let my soul 
"Want mercy, if 1 do not join with him: 
Y^ea, on his part, I'll empty all these veins. 
And shed my dear blood, drop l)y drop, i^ the dust. 
But I will lift the down-trod Mortimer 
As high i' the air as this unthankful king, 
As this ingrate and canker'd Bolingbroke. H. IV. pt. i. i. 3. 

Pent to linger 
But with a grain a day, I would not buy 
Their mercy at the price of one fliir word ; 
Nor check my courage for wliat they can give, 
To havH with saying, — Good morrow. C. iii. 3, 

I'll have a starling shall be taught to speak 
Nothing but Mortimer, and give it him, 
To keep his anger still in motion. H. IV. pt. i. i. 3, 

Thou injurious tribune! 
Within thine eyes sat twenty thousand deaths, 
In thy hands clutch'd as many millions, in 
Thy lying tongue both numbers, I would say, 
Thou liest, unto thee, with a voice as free 
As I do pray the gods. C. iii. ^. 

PER Ijinkfsptariati Sirtinnarti. pur 

PERTINACITY,— conftm/cr^. 

Were I as patient as the midnight sleep, 
Ev Jove, ^twould be my mind. C. iii. 1 . 

It nothing steads us 
To cnide him from our eaves. 


This is the very coinage of your hrain: 

This bodiless creation ecstacy 

Is very cunning in. H, iii. 4. 

PHILOSOPHY. Philosophers. 

Adversity's sweet milk, philosophy. R.J, iii. 3. 

Brave conquerors, — for so you are, 
That war against your own affections, 

And the huge army of the world's desires. L. L. i. 1. 

Of your philosophy you make no use, 
If you give place to accidental evils. I.C. iv. 3. 

Blest are those. 
Whose blood and judgment are so well commingled^ 
That they are not a pipe for Fortune's finger, 
To sound what vStop she please. 11. iii. 2. 

Hang up philosophy ! 
Unless philosophy can make a Juliet, 
Di.^plant a town, reverse a prince's doom ; 
It helps not, it prevails not, talk no more. . R. J. iii. 3. 
For there was never yet philosopher. 
That could endure the tooth-ach patiently; 
However they have writ the style of gods, 
And made a pish at chance and sufferance M. ^. v. 1. 

0, cry you mercy, 
Noble philosopher, your company. K. L. iii. 4. 

First, let me talk with this philosopher : — 
Vf hat is the cause of thunder ? K. L. iii. 4. 

, ^ Pretended. 

We make trifles of terrors ; ensconcing ourselves into 
seeming knowledge, when we should submit ourselves to 
an unknown fear. A. W. ii. 3 

We have our philosophical persons, to make modern and 
familiar things, supernatural and causeless. A. W. ii, 3. 


Good phrases are surely, and ever were, very commendable. 

H. IV. PT, Ti, iii. 4. 

The tevil and his tarn ! what phrase is this ? M.W.\.\ 


PITY Ijiahniirarinii Dtrtiiinanj. rm 


Throw physic to the dogs, I'll none of it. M. v. S. 

... ^ State. 

If thou could'st, doctor, cast 
The water of my land, find her disease, 
And purge it to a sound and pristine health, 
I would applaud thee to the very echo, 
That should applaud again. — PulFt off, I say — 
What rhubarb, senna, or what purgative drug, 
Would scour these English hence. M. v. 3. 


AVhose skill was almost as great as his honesty; had it 
stretched so far, 'twould have made Nature immortal, and 
Death should have played for lack of work. A. W. i. 1. 


There's no art. 
To find the mind's construction in the face : 
He was a gentleman on whom I built 
An infinite trust. if. i. 1. 


Come, draw this curtain, and let's see your picture. 

t. a iii. 2. 
But we will draw the curtain, and show you the picture. 

T. N. i. 5. 


Which holy undertaking, with most austere sanctimony, 
she accomplished. A. W. iv. 3. 

PIPING (See also Tool). 

Govern these ventages with your fingers and thumb, give 
it breath with your mouth, and it will discourse moj^t 
excellent music. i/. iii. 2. 

Why, look you now, how unworthy a tiling you make of 
me. You would play upon me ; you would seem to know 
my stops ; you would pluck out the heart of my mystery ; 
you would sound me from my loAVCst note to the top of my 
compass : and there is much music, excellent voice, in this 
little organ ; yet cannot you mak(} it speak. 'S])lood, do 
you think I am easier to be plaj^ed upon than a pipe ? 

I£. iii. 2. 

PIRATES' Piety. 

Thou concludest like the sanctimonious pirate, !' at went 
to sea with the ten commandments, but scraped one out of 
the table : — Thou shalt not steal, M. M, i. 2, 

PIT IjjaltBspariiin Dittinnnrii. pit 


Those that can pity, here 
May, if they think it well, let fall a tear ; 
The subject will deserve it. H. VIIL prologue 

But if there be 
Yet left in heaven as small a drop of pity, 
As a wren^s eye, fearM gods, a part of it ! Cym. iv. 2 

And pity, like a naked new-born babe. 

Striding the blast, or heaven's cherubim, horsed 

Upon the sightless couriers of the air. 

Shall blow the horrid deed in every eye, 

That tears shall drown the wind. M, i. 7. 

It is a pity 
Would move a monster. H. VIIL ii. 3. 

If ever you have look'd on better days ; 
If ever been where bells have knoU'd to church 
If ever sat at any good man's feast ; 
If ever from your eye-lids wip'd a tear. 
And know what 'tis to pity and be pitied ; 
Lot gentleness my strong enforcement be. A.Y. ii. 7, 

A begging prince what beggar pities not ? R. III. i. 4. 

Had not God, for some strong purpose, steel'd 

The hearts of men, tboy must perforce have melted, 

And barbarism itaclf have pitied him. R. II. v. 2 

If thou tell'st this heavy story right, 
Upon my soul the hearers will shed tears ; 
Yea, even my foes will shed fast falling tears, 
And say, — Alas, it was a piteous deed ! H. VI. pt. hi. i. 4, 

I show it most of all when I show justice ; 

For then I pity those I do not know, 

AVhich a dismiss'^ offence would after gall ; 

And do him right, that, answering one foul wrong 

Lives not to act another. M. M. ii. 2. 

Pity's sleeping: 
Strange times, that weep with laughing, not with weeping ! 


l^vlt, I perceive, 
?Jen must learn now with pity to dispense ; 
For policy sits above conscience. T. A. iii. 2. 

The dint of pity. J.C.iu.l. 

Tear-falling pity. R. III. iv. 2. 

O dearest soul ! your cause doth strike my heart 

With pity, tliat dv)th make me sick. Cym i. 7. 

PLA IjiaktHpiinnE BirtinEatif. pla 

PLACE AND Great xEss. 

place and greatness, millions of false eyes 

Are struck upon thee ! volumes of report 

Kun with those false and most contrarious quests 

Upon thy doin;;i;s ! thousand ^scapes of wit 

Make thee the father of their idle dreams, 

And rack thee in their fancies ! M. M, iv. 1. 

PLANETARY Influence. 
-V This is the oxc dlont foppery of the world ; that, when 

we are sick in iortuno, (often the surfeit of our own beha- 
viour) wo make gui ty of our disasters, the sun, the moon, 
and the stars : as if we were villains by necessity ; fools, 
by heavenly compulsion; knaves, thieves, and treachers, 
by spherical predominance ; drunkards, liars, and adul- 
terers, by an enforced obedience of planetary influence ; 
and all that we are evil in, by a divine thrusting on ; An 
admirable evasion of man, to lay his goatish disposition to 
the charge of a star ! K. L. i. 2. 

Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie, 

"W'hich wo ascribe to heaven: the fated sky 

Gives us free scope ; only, doth backward pull 

Oar slow designs, when we ourselves are dull. A.W. i. 1. 

Men at some time are masters of their f\ites: 

The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars. 

But in ourselves, that we are underlings. J.C. i. 2. 

PLAYS. Players. 

Melancholy is the nurse of frenzy, 
Therefore, they thought it good you hear a play. 
And frame your mind to mirtii and merriment. 
Which bars a thousand harms, and lengthens life. 

T. S, Ind. 2. 
Is there no play, 
To ease the anguish of a torturing hour? M. N, v. 1. 

Shall's have a play of this ? Ci/m, v. 5, 

What, a play toward ? I'll be an auditor. M, K ill. J, 

The play's the thing. 

Wherein I'll catch the conscience of the king. II. ii. 2. 

Good, my lord, will you see the players well bestow'd ? 
Do you hear, let them be well used ; for they are the ab- 
stract, and brief chronicles, of the time : After your death, 
you were better have a bad epitaph, than their ill report 
while you live. M. ii. 2. 

The players cannot keep counsel ; they'll tell all. H, iii. 2. 


PLE lljalvrBpnirian Sirtinniin}. poe 


Since what I am to say, must be but that 

Which contradicts my accusation ; and 

The testimony on my part, no other 

But what comes from myself, it shall scarce boot me " 

To say, — Not Guilty : — mine integrity 

Being counted falsehood, shall, as I express it, 

Be so received. But thus, — if powers divine 

Behold our human actions {as they do) 

I doubt not then, but innocence shall make 

False accusation blush, and tyranny 

Tremble at patience. W.T. iii. 2. 

PLEASURE AND Revenge, Recklessness of. 
Pleasure, and revenge. 
Have ears more deaf than adders to the voice 
Of any true decision. T. 0. ii. 2. 


My heart is thirsty for that noble pledge. /. C. iv. 3. 


Why, universal plodding prisons up 

The nimble spirits in the arteries ; 

As motion, and long-during action, tires 

The sinewy vigour of the traveller. L. L. iv. 3. 


By the Lord, our plot is a good plot as ever was laid ; 
our friends true and constant : a good plot, good friends, 
and full of expectation : an excellent plot, very good friends. 


Who cannot be crush'd with a plot! A.TV. iv. 5. 

So so ; these are the limbs of the plot. R.VIII. i. 1. 


Hear me, you wrangling pirates, that fall out 

In sharing that which you have pill'd from me. i?. III. i. 3. 

POETRY. Poet (See also Ballad-Monger, Rhymster). 
Our poosy is a gum, which oozes 
From whence 'tis nourished : the fire i'the flint 
Shows not, till it be struck ; our gentle flame 
Provokes itself, and, like the current, flies 
Each bound it chafes. ' T. A. i. 1. 

Own'st thou the heavenly influence of the muse, 
. Spend not thy fury on some worthless song ; 
Dark'uing thy power to lend base subjects light. Poems, 

poE |ljaIvrB|irririini Uirtiniinnf, pol 

POETRY, Poet, — continued. 

Assist me, some extemporal god of rhyme, for, I am 
sure, I sliall turn sonneteer. Devise, wit ; write, pen : for 
I am for whole volumes in folio. ]j, L. i. 2. 

The elegancy, facility, and golden cadence of poesy. 

L. L. iv. ?. 
And wait the season, and observe the times, 
And spend his prodigal wits in bootless rhymes. L.L. v. ?, 
Tlie force of heaven-bred poesy. T. G. iii. '^. 

Audrey. — T do not know what poetical is: Is it honest 
indeed and word? Is it a true thing? 

Touchstone. — No, truly ; for the truest poetry is the m ist 
feigning. A. T. iii. 3. 


Let me have 
A dram of poison ; such soon-speeding geer 
As will disperse itself through all tlio veins, 
That the life-weary taker may fall dead ; 
And that the trunk may be discharg'd of breath 
As violently, as hasty powder fir'd 
Doth hurry from the fatal cannon's womb. H. J.Y.I, 

No cataplasm so rare, 
Collected from all simples that have virtue 
Under the moon, can save the thing from death, 
That is but scratched withal. H. iv. 7. 


The devil knew not what he did, when he made man 
politic. T. A. iii. 3. 

Plague of your policy ! 
You sent me deputy for Ireland ; 
Ear from his succour, from the king, from all 
That might have mercy on the fault thou gav'st him ; 
AVhilst your great goodness, out of holy pity, 
Absolved him with an axe. //. VIII. iii. 2 


Get thee glass eyes ; ^ 

And, like a scurvy politician, seem 

To see the things thou dost not. K. L. iv. 6. 

They'll sit by the fire, and presume to know 
What\s done i'the Capitol : who's like to rise, 
Who thrives, and who declines ; side fictions, and give out 
Conjectural marriages ; making parties strong. 
And feebling such as stand not in their liking, 
Below their cobbled shoes. C. i. 1. 

2>8 - 

POL IIjnltrBpExiiUi BirtioHnnf* pop 


Behavionr, Avhat wert thou 
Till this man showM thee ? and what art thou now ? 

X, L. V. 2. 

Why, what is pomp, rule, reign, but earth and dust ? 

And, live we how we can, jet die we must. 

H. YL PT. III. V. 2. 

AND Poverty. 

Take physic, pomp ; 

Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel ; 

That thou mayest shake the superflux to them, 

And show the heavens more just. K, L. iii. 4 

POPULAEITY (See also Apflause, Mob). 

All tongues speak of him-, and the bleared sights 

Are spectacled to see him. C. ii. 1. 

Stalls, bulks, windows. 

Are smother'd up, leads filFd, and ridges hors'd 

With variable complexions; all agreeing 

In earnestness to see him. C. ii. L 

Had I so lavish of my presence been, 

So common hackney'd in the eyes of men, 

So stale and cheap to vulgar company ; 

Opinion, that did help me to the crown, 

Had still kept loyal to possession. 

And left me in reputelcss lianishmcnt, 

A fellow of no mark, nor likelilioijd. 

By being seldom soon, I could not stir. 

But, like a comet, I was wondor'd at : 

That men would tell their children, TJifd is lie; 

Others would say, Vfliere ? icliw/i i.s ]lolin<jhrokc f 

And then I stole ail courtesy from heaven, 

And dress'd m3'Self in .^uch humility, 

That I did pluck allegiance from men's hearts, 

Loud shouts and salutations from men's mouths, 

Even in the presence of the crowned king. 

Thus did I keep my ])crsoii fresh and new ; 

]My presence, like a rolje pontifical, 

Ke'er seen, but wonJer'd at: and so my state, 

Seldom, but sumptuous, showed like a feast ; 

And Avon, by rareness, such solemnity. 

Tlie skipping king, lie ambled up and down, 

With shallow jesters, and i-ash bavin wits, 

Soon kindled, and soon burn VI : carded his state; 

IMingled iiis royalty Avith carpiiig fools ; 

Had his great name prof mod with his scorns ; 

And gave iiis countenance, against his name> 

26ii 25 

POP lljakrHjimian IlirtinHEn{. pop 

rOVVLAUlTY, —continned. 

To laugh at gibing bojs, and stand the push 

Of every beardless vain comparative : 

Grew a companion to the common streets, 

Enfeoff''d himself to popularity : 

That being daily sv^^allowed by men's eyes, 

They surfeited with honey ; and began 

To loathe the taste of sweetness, whereof a little 

More than a little is by much too much. 

So, when he had occasion to be seen, 

lie was but as the cuckoo is in June, 

Heard, not regarded ; seen, but wdth such eyes, 

As, sick and blunted with community, 

Afford no extraordinary gaze. 

Such as is bent on sun-like majesty 

When it shines seldom in admiring eyes. H. IV. pt. i. iii. 2, 

I have seen 
The dumb men throng to see him, and the blind 
To hear him speak : the matrons flung their gloves, 
Ladies and maids their scarfs and handkerchiefs, 
Upon him as he pass'd : the nobles bended, 
As to Jove's statue ; and the commons made 
A shower, and thunder, with their caps and shouts. 

a ii. 1. 

lie's lov'd of the distracted multitude, 

Who like not in their judgment, but their eyes ; 

And, where 'tis so, the offender's scourge is weigh'd 

But never the offence. H, iv. 3. 

He returns, 
Splitting the air with noise. (7. v. 5. 

It hath been taught us from the primal state. 

That he, which is, was wish'd until he were ; 

And the ebb'd man, ne'er loved, till ne'er worth love, 

Comes dearM by being lack'd. This common body, 

Like a vagabond flag upon the stream. 

Goes to, and back, lackeying the varying tide, 

To rot itself with motion. A.C. i. 4. 

Such a noise arose 
As the shrouds make at sea in a stiff tempest, 
As loud, and to as many tunes : hats, cloaks, 
(Doublets, I think,) flew up ; and had their faces 
Been loose, this day they had been lost. H. VIIL iv. 1 

Every wretch pining and pale before, 
Beholding him, plucks comfort from his looks ; 
A largess universal, like the sun, 


POP |)ljEkBspriiriii!i Birtiniiiin];. pop 

POPULARITY,— co^^fm^^et?. 

Ilis liberal eye doth give to every one, 

Thawing cold fear. H. F. iv. chorus > 

Then, as I said, the Duke, great Bolingbroke, 
Mounted upon a hot and fiery steed, 
Which his aspiring rider seemed to know, 
With slow, but stately pace, kept on his course ; 
While all tongues cry'd, — God save thee, Bolingbroke! 
You would have thought the very windows spake 
So many greedy looks of young and old 
Through casements darted their desiring eyes 
Upon his visage ; — and that all the walls, 
With painted imag'ry, had said at once, — 
Jesu preserve thee : Welcome, Bolingbroke ! 
Whilst he, from one side to the other turning, 
Bare-headed, lower than his proud steed's neck, 
Bespake them thus : — I thank you, countrymen ; 
And thus still doing, thus he passed along. R. 11. v. 2. 

If the tag-rag people did not clap him, and hiss him, ac- 
cording as he pleased, and displeased them, as they use to 
do the players in the theatre, I am no true man. J.C. i.2. 

Marry, before he fell down when he perceived the common 
herd was glad ho refused the crown, he plucked me ope his 
doublet, and offered thorn his throat to cut. An 1 had 
been a man of any occupation, if I would not have taken 
him at his word, I would I might go to hell, among the 
rogues ; — and so he fell. When he came to himself again, 
he said, If he had done, or said, anything amiss, he di^sired 
their worships to think it was his infirmity. Three (^r four 
wenches, where I stood, cried, Alas, good sou\ — and forgave 
him with all their hearts. /. C. i 2. 

Since the wisdom of their choice, is rather to have my 
hat than my heart, I will practise the insinuating nod, and 
be oif to them most counterfeitly ; that is, Sir, I will coun- 
terfeit the bewitchment of some popular man, and give it 
bountifully to the desirers. C. ii. 3. 

The rabble call him lord : 
And, as the world were now but to begin. 
Antiquity forgot, custom not known. 
The ratifiers and props of every word, 
They cry, — Choose tve ; Laertes shall he king ! H. iv. 5. 

Now, when the lords, and barons of the realm, 
Perceiv'd Northumberland did lean to him, 
The more and less came in with cap and knee ; 
Met him in borouglis, cities, villages ; 
Attended him on bridges, stood in lanes, 

POP IftakEHparinii Birtinnnrif. pop 

rOVULAlUTY,— continued. 

Laid gifts before him, proffered him their oaths, 

Gave him their heirs, as pages foUow'd him, 

Even at his heels, in golden multitudes. 

lie presently, — as greatness knows itself, — 

Steps me a little higher than his vow 

Made to my father, while his blood was poor, 

Upon the naked shore at Ravenspurg ; 

And now, forsooth, takes on him to reform 

Some certain edicts, and some strait decrees, 

Tiiat lie too heavy on the commonwealth : 

Cries out upon abuses, seems to weep 

Over his country's wrongs ; and, by this face 

This seeming brow of justice, did he win 

The hearts of all that he did angle for. II. IV, pt. i. iv. 3 

You see, how all conditions, how all minds, 

(As well of glib and slippery creatures, as 

Of grave and austere quality,) tender down 

Their services to Lord Timon ; his large fortune 

Upon his good and gracious nature hanging. 

Subdues and properties to his love and tendance 

All sorts of hearts. T. ^. i. L 

The wisdom of their choice is, rather to have my hat 
than my heart. C. ii. 3 

Observ'd his courtship to the common people : 
How he did seem to dive into their hearts, 
With humble and familiar courtesy ; 
Vv'^hat reverence he did throw away on slaves ;■ 
Wooing poor craftsmen with the craft of smiles, 
And patient undorbearing of his fortune. 
As 'tvrere to banish their effects with him 
Oif goes his bonnet to an oyster-wench ; 
A brace of draymen bid — God speed him well 1 
And had the tribute of his supple knee. 
With — Thanks, my countrymen, my loving friends. 

IL IL i. 4. 

Was ever feather so lightly blown to and fro, as this 
multitude ? H. VI. pt. ii. iv. 8. 

Look, as I blow this feather from my face, 
And as the air blovs'S it to me again. 
Obeying with my wind when I do blow, 
And yielding to another when it blows, 
Coinuianded always by the greater gust ; 
Such is the lightness of you common men. 

II. VI. PT. III. iii. 1 


POP IjiakEspariiin DittinDiin{. pop 


The common people swarm like summer flies, 
And whither fly the gnats, but to the sun ? 

H, VI. PT. III. ii. 6. 
The commonwealth is sick of their own choice, 
Their over-greedy love hath surfeited : — 
A habitation giddy and unsure 
llath he, that buildeth on the vulgar heart. 

thou fond many ! Avith what loud applause 
Didst thou beat heaven with blessing JBolingbroke, 
Before he was what thou wouldst have him be 1 
And being now trimm'd in thine own desires, 
Thou, beastly feeder, art so full of him, 

That thou provok'st thyself to cast him up. 

H. ir. PT. II. i. 3. 

When he had done, some followers of mine own 

At lower end of the hall, hurl'd up their caps, 

And some ten voices cried, God save King liichard ! 

And thus I took tlie Vantage of those few, — 

Thanks, gentle citizens, and friends, quoth I ; 

This general applause, and cheerful shout. 

Argues 3'Our wisdom, and your love to Richard : 

And even here broke oif, and came away. J?. III. iii. 7. 

1 had rather have one scratch my head i^ the sun, 
When the alarum was struck, than idly sit 

To hear my nothings monster'd. C. ii. 2. 

Faith, there have been many great men who have flat- 
tered the people, who ne'er loved them ; and there be 
many that they have lov'd, they know not wherefore ; so 
that, if they love they know not why, they hate upon no 
better ground. C. ii. 2. 

I have not stopped mine ears to their demands, 
Nor posted off their suits with slow delays ; 
My pity hath been balm to heal their wounds, 
]My mildness hatli allay \1 their swoliing griefs, 
lUy more}' dried their wator-fiowing tears : 
I have not been desirous of their wealth, 
Xor much oppress'd them with great subsidies, 
Kor forward of revenge, though they much err'd 
Then why should they love Edward more than me ? 

i/.F/. PT. III. iv.8. 
I love the people, 
But do not like to stage me to their e^^es ; 
Tiiough it do well, I do not relish well 
Their loud applause, and aves vehement; 
Nor do I think the man of safe discretion, 
That does affect it. M. M. i. L 

293 25* 

POP lljakoiiniriiiii I)irtinuan{» por 

POFULARITY— continued. ^ 

Like one of two contending in a prize^ 

That thinks he hath done well in .people's eyes, 

Hearing applause, and universal shout, 

(Hddy in spirit, still gazing in a doubt 

"W^hether those peals of praise be his or no. M. V. iii. 2. 

PORTENTS (See also Prodigies). 

'j'he owl shriek'd at thy birth, an evil sign ; 

The night-crow cried, aboding luckless time ; 

Dogs howl'd, and hideous tempests shook down trees ; 

The raven rooked her on the chimney top, 

And chattering pies in dismal discord sung. 

H. VI. FT. III. V. 6. 

Before the days of change, still is it so ; 

l>y a divine instinct, men's minds mistrust 

Ensuing danger; as, by proof, we see 

The water swell before a boist'rous storm. R. III. ii. 3. 

When clouds are seen, wise men put on their cloaks ; 
When great leaves fall, then wir\ter is at hand ; 
"W^hen the sun sets, who doth not look for night? 
Untimely storms make men expect a dearth ? it. III. ii.*3. 

Warnings, and portents, and evils ominous. J. C. ii. 2. 

The southern Avind 
Doth play the trumpet to his purposes ; 
And, by his hollow whistling in the leaves, 
EDretelis a tempest and a blustering day. H.IV. pt. i. v. 1. 

How bloodily the sun begins to peer 

Above yon busky hill ! the day looks pale 

At his distemperature. H. IV, pt. i. v. 1. 

Truly, the hearts of men are fnll of fear : 

You cannot reason almost with a man 

That looks not heavily, and full of dread. i?. III. ii. 3 

PORTRAIT (See also Painting). 

See, what a grace was seated on this brow : 

Hyperion's curls ; the front of Jove himself; 

An eye like Mars to threaten and command ; 

A station, like the herald Mercury, 

New lighted on a heaven-kissing hill 

A combination, and a form, indeed, 

Where every god did seem to set his seal, 

To give the world assurance of a man. H, iii. 4 

thou senseless form, 
Thou shalt be worsnipp'd, kiss'd, lovM, and adorM. 

^. 6?,iv,4 

poR |liiikB]j|iriiiiriE t!iriiniiiiri|. pov 


What demi-god 
Ilatb come so near creation ? Move tliese eyes ? 
Or whether, riding on the balls of mine, 
Seem they in motion ? Here are sever'd lips, 
Parted with sugar breath ; so sweet a bar 
Should sunder such sweet friends : Here in her hairs 
The painter plays the spider ; and hath woven 
A golden mesh to entrap the hearts of men, 
Faster than gnats in cobwebs : But her eyes, — 
How could he see to do them ? M. Y. iii. 2. 

The counterfeit presentment. H. iii. 4. 


Have is have, however men do catch. K. J. i. 1. 

AND Deprivation. 

For it so falls out, 
That Avhat we have, we prize not to the worth, 
Whiles we enjoy it ; but l^eing lack'd and lost, 
Why, then we rack the value ; then we find 
The virtue, that possession would not show us 
Whiles it was ours. M. A. iv. 1 


Jove and my stars be prais'd, here is yet a postscript ! 



No matter what : He's poor, and that's revenge enough. 

T. A. iii. 4. 

Pray you, poor gentleman, take up some other station ; 
here's no place for you ; pray you, avoid. C. iv. 5. 

As we do turn our backs 
From our companion, thrown into his grave ; 
So his familiars to his buried fortunes 
Slink all away ; leave their false vows with him, 
Like empty purses pick'd ; and his poor self, 
A dedicated beggar to the air, 
With his disease of all shunn'd poverty. 
Walks, like contempt, alone. T. A. iv. 2. 

Anon, a careless herd 
Full of the pasture, jumps along by him; Ay, quoth 

Sweep on, you fat and greasy citizens ; 
'Tis just the fixshion: wherefore do you look 
Upon that poor and broken bankrupt then? A.Y. ii. I 

Art thou so bare, and full of wretchedness, 
A nd fear's to die ? ftimine is in thy cheeks, 

pov IjiaktHjifEriiiii DirtinHEtti. pra 


Ncod and oppression stareth in thine eyes, 

Upon thy back hangs ragged misery, 

The world is not thy friend, nor the world's law. Ii.J. y. 1. 

Who can speak broader than he that has no house to put 
his head in ? — Such may rail against great buildings. 

T. A. iii. 4. 
Through tatter'd clothes small vices do appear. K. L. iv. 4. 
A most pooAman, made tame by fortune's blows ; 
A\' ho, by the art of known and feeling sorrows, 
Am pr(^gnant to good pity. K, L. iv. 6. 

No, Madam, 'tis not so well that I am poor ; though many 
of the rich are damned. A. W. i. 3. 

A staff is quickly found to beat a dog. II.VL pt. ii. iii. 1. 
They say, poor suitors have strong breaths. C. i. 1. 


perilous mouths, 
That bear in them one and the self-same tongue. 
Either of condemnation or approof ! 
Bidding the law make court'sy to their will ; 
Hooking both right and wrong to the appetite. 
To follow as it draws ! A. M. ii. 4. 

We had need pray. 
And heartily, for our deliverance ; 
Or this imperious man w^ill work us all 
From princes into pages : all men's honours 
Lie in one lump before him, to be fashion'd 
Into what pitch he please. H. VIII. ii. 2. 

In his livery 
Walk'd crowns and crownets ; realms and islands were 
As plates dropp'd from his pocket. A. C. v. 2. 

The abuse of greatness is, when it disjoins 

Remorse from power. J,C, ii. 1. 

Mortality and mercy in Vienna 

Live in thy tongue and heart. M. M. i. 1. 


The worthiness of praise distains his worth 
if that the prais'd himself bring the praise forth : 
But what the rip'ning enemy commend, 
That breath fame follows; that praise, sole pure, transcends. 

r.(7. i.3. 
Great Timon, noble, worthy, royal Timon ! 
Ah ! when the means are gone, that buy this praise. 
The breath is gone whereof this praise is made. T.A, ii;2. 


PRA IjinltrHptiiriiiii Sirtinnnrtf. pra 


Do not smile at me, that I boast her off, 

For thou shalt find she will outstrip all praise, 

And make it halt behind her. T. iv. 1. 

You shall not be 
The grave of your deserving : Rome must know 
The value of her own : 'twere a concealment 
Worse than a theft, no less than a traducement, 
To hide your doings. C. i. 9. 

Cram us with praise, and make us 
As fat as tame things : One good deed, dying tongueless, 
Slaughters a thousand, waiting upon that : 
Our praises are our wages. W. T. i. 9. 

Praising what is lost 
Makes the remembrance dear. A, W. v. 3. 

Cautious they praise, who purpose not to sell. Foems, 

To things of sale a seller's praise belongs. L. L. iv. 3. 

. AND Censure. 

Marry, Sir, they praise me and make an ass of me : now 
my foes tell me plainly, Pm an ass ; so that by my foes. Sir, 
I profit in the knowledge of myself. T. iV". v. 1. 


Not with fond shekels of the tested gold ; 

Or stones, whose rates are either rich, or poor, 

As fancy values them : but with true prayers, 

That shall be up at heaven and enter there, 

Ere sun-rise. M. M. ii. 2. 

We, ignorant of ourselves, 
Beg often our own harms, which the wise powers. 
Deny us for our good ; so find we profit 
By losing of our prayers. A. C. ii. 1. 

When I would pray and think, I think and pray 

To several subjects : heaven hath my empty words ; 

Whilst my invention, hearing not my tongue. 

Anchors on Isabel : Heaven in my mouth, 

As if I did but only chew his name ; i 

And in my heart, the strong and swelling evil 

Of my conception. M. M. ii. 4. 

When holy and devout religious men 

Are at their beads, ^tis hard to draw them thence. 

So sweet is zealous contemplation. R. III. iii. 7. 

A thousand knees, 
Ten thousand years together, naked, fasting, 
Upon a barren mountain, and still winter 

PRA IjjnkEspriiriiiii DirtianDrii. pkb 

PRxi I S E , — continued. 

In storm perpetual, could not move the gods 

To look that way thou wert. W.T, iii. 2 

I pray thee leave me to myself to-ni^ht; 

For I have need of many orisons 

To move the heavens to smile upon my state, 

YV^hich, well thou know'st, is cross and full of sin. 

And men in dangerous bonds, pray not alike. \ Cym. iii. 2. 
Get him to say his prayers ; good Sir Toby, get him to pray. 

T. N. iii. 4. 


Fie, uncle Beaufort ! I have heard you preach, 

That malice was a groat and grievous sin : 

And will not you maintain the thing you teach, 

But prove a chief offender in the same ? H. VI. pt. i. iii. L 


AVhat, if it tempt you toward the flood, my lord, 

Or to the dreadful summit of the cliff. 

That beetles o'er his base into the sea ? 

And there assume some other horrible form, 

^V'hich might deprive your sovereignty of reason, 

And draw you into madness ? think of it ; 

The very place puts toys of desperation. 

Without more motive, into every brain. 

That looks so many fathoms to the sea. 

And hears it roar beneath. H. i. 4. 


Lord Angelo is precise ; 
Stand at a guard with envy ; scarce confesses 
That his blood flows, or that his appetite 
Is more to bread than stone : Hence shall we see 
If power change purpose, what our soemers be. M. 31. i. 4. 

A man whose blood 
Is very snow-broth ; one who never feels 
The Avanton stings and motions of the sense ; 
But doth rebate and blunt his natural edge 
With profits of the mind, study and fast. M. M. i. 5. 


The observed of all observers. JJ. iii. 1, 


^Tis the curse of service ; 
Preferment goes by letter, and affection, 


THE lljEltBspEritttt Dirtiflimrii. pre 

PREFERMENT,— cow^mwec?. 

Not by the old gradation, where each second 

Stood heir to the first. 0. i. 1. 


Oft it chances, in particular men, 
That, for some vicious mole of nature in them. 
As, in their birth, (wherein they are not guilty, 
Since nature cannot choose its origki,) 
By the overgrowth of some complexion. 
Oft breaking down the pales and forts of reason ; 
Or by some habit, which too much o'er-leavens 
The form of plausive manners ; — that these men, — 
Carrying, I say, the stamp of one defect ; 
Being nature's livery, or fortune's star, — 
Their virtues else, (be they as pure as grace. 
As infinite as man can undergo,) 
Shall in the general censure take corruption 
From that particular fault : the dram of base 
Doth all the noble substance often dout, 
To his own scandal. H, 1. 4. 

Which warp'd the line of every other favour ; 
Scorned a fair colour, or express'd it stolen ; 
Extended or contracted all proportions, 
To a most hideous object. A, W, v. 3. 


I am a Jew : Hath not a Jew eyes ? hath not a Jew hands, 
organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions ? fed with 
the same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject to the 
same diseases, healed by the same means, warmed an-i 
cooled by the same winter and summer, as a Christian is ? 
if you prick us, do we not bleed ? if you tickle us, do we 
not laugh? if you poison us, do we not die? and if yoa 
wrong us, shall we not revenge ? if we are like you in the 
rest, we will resemble you in that. M. V. iii. 1. 


Your Vessels, and your spells, provide. 

Your charms, and every thing beside. M. iii. 5. 


Here's a gentleman, and a friend of mine. M. M, iii. 2. 

PRESENT Pleasures and Pains. 

Each present joy or sorrow seems the chief. Poems, 


Inspired merit so by breath is barr'd : 

It is not so with him that all thiufrs knows 

PRE |Ijiikr]j|itiiriEii Sirtiuiiani. rni 

As ^tis with us that square our guess by shows ; 

l^ut most it is presumption in us, when 

The help of heaven wo count the act of men. A. W, ii. u 


My pretext to strike at him admits 
A good construction. (7. v. 5, 


You boggle shrewdly, every feather starts you, A. W. v. 3. 


1 do hate a proud man, as I hate the engendering of toads. 


world, how apt the poor are to he proud ! T. A\ iii. 4. 
He that is proud, eats up himself; pride is his own glass, 

his own trumpet, his own chronicle ; and whatever praises 
itself but in the deed, devours the deed in the praise. 

r.C. ii3. 
lie is so plaguy proud, that the death tokens of it 
Cry, — No recovery. T. C. ii. 3. 

Harsh rage, 
Defect of manners, want of governmont, 
Pride, haughtiness, opinion, and disdain ; 
The least of which, haunting a nobleman, 
Loseth men's hearts. II, IV. ft. i. iii. 1 

1 am too high-born to bo property'd, 
To be a secondary at controul. 

Or useful serving-man, and instrument, 

To any sovereign. K. J. v. 2. 

An he be proud with me, I'll pheoze his pride. T. C. ii. 3. 

I cannot toll 
What heaven hath given him, let some graver eye 
Pierce into that : but I can see his pride 
Peep through each part of him : Whence has he that ? 
If not from hell, the devil is a niggard ; 
Or has given all before, and he begins 
A new hell in himself. II. YIIL i. 1 

Things small as nothing, for request's sake only, 
lie makes important : Possess'd he is with greatness ; 
And speaks not to himself, but with a pride 
That quarrels at self-breath. T.C. \'i.6. 

Small things make base men proud : this villain, here, 
Being captain of a pinnace, threatens more 
Than Burgulus, the strong lUyrian pirate. 

II. IV. PT. II. iv. L 

PRi IIjEkrHpiiriaii ffirtiniinrij: pko 

Pride liath no other g;lass 
To sliow itself, but pride ; for t-.apjde knees 
Feed arrogance, and are the proud man's fees. T.C, iii. 3. 


Yes, lion-sick, sick of proud heart : you may call it 
melancholy if you -will favour the man ; but, by my head, 
'tis pride. T.'C. ii. 3. 

■ Eats up Gratitude. 

A'ery well ; and could be content to give him good report 
for't, but that he pa^'S himself with being proud. (7. i. 1. 

PRINCE, Degenerate. 

Shall the son of England prove a thief, and take purses I 

If./F. PT.i. ii.4. 


It is not for prisoners to be too silent in their words. 

L. L, i. 2. 


What will this come to ? 
He commands us to provide, and give great gifts, 
And all out of an empty coffer ; 
Nor will lie know his purse ; or yield me this, 
To show him Avliat a beggar his heart is, 
Being of no power to make his wishes good ; 
His promises iiy so beyond his state, 
That what he speaks is all in debt, he owes 
For every word ; he is so kind, that he now 
Pays interest for it T. A. i. 2, 

PJW^DIGIES (See also Portents). 

(n the most high and palmy state of Rome, 

A little ere the mightiest Julius fell. 

The graves stood tenantless, and the sheeted dead 

Did squeak and gibber in the Roman streets. H. i. 1, 

Stars with trains of fire, and dews of blood, 
Disasters in the sun ; and the moist btar. 
Upon whose influence Neptune^s empire stands, 
Was sick almost to doomsday, with eclipse. H. i. 1. 

No natural exhalation in the sky, 
No scape of nature, no distemper^ day, 
No common wind, no customed event,' 
But they will pluck aw;\y iiis natural cause, 
And call them meteors, prodigies, and signs, 
Abortives, presages, and tongues of heaven, 
Plainly denouncing vengeance upon John. K.J, iii. 4e 

301 vte 

-PRO llfnkBHpBiiriitii SirtinHunf. pfo 

FROBIGIES,— continued. 

Fierce fiery warriors fight upon the clouds, 

In ranks, and squadrons, and right form of war, 

AVhich drizzled blood upon the capitol: 

The noise of battle hurtled in the air, 

Horses did neigh, and dying men did groan. /. C. ii. 2: 

When beggars die, there are no comets seen ; 

The heavens themselves blaze forth the death of princes. 

J.a U.2 

His rash fierce blaze of riot cannot last ; 

For violent fires soon burn out themselves : 

Small showers last long, but sudden storms are short; 

He tires betimes, that spurs too fast betimes ; 

With eager feeding food doth choke the feeder : 

Light vanity, insatiate cormorant. 

Consuming means, soon preys upon itself. B. II. ii. 1, 


Against ill chances men are ever merry, 
But heaviness fore-runs the good event. H. IV. pt. ii. iv. 2, 

The date is out of such prolixity. E. J. i. 4. 


Promising is the very air o' the time : it opens the eyes of 
expectation : performance is ever the duller for his act : and, 
but in the plainer and simpler kind of people, the deed is 
quite out of use. To promise, is most courtly and fashion- 
able ; performance is a kind of will and testament, which 
argues a great sickness in his judgment that makes it. 

T. A. V. 1. 
His promises were, as he then was, mighty ; 
But his performance, as he now is, nothing. H. VIIL iv. 2. 
I see, Sir, you are liberal in offers : 
You taught me-first to beg ; and now, methinks, 
You teach me how a beggar should be answer' d. 

i¥.F. iv.l 
Thy promises are like Adonis' gardens. 
That one day blooniM, and fruitful were the next. 

//. VL PT. I. i. 6 

The king is kind ; and, well we know, the king 
Knows at what time to promise, when to pay. 

H.IV. PT.i.iv.3. 


Many so arrive at second masters, upon their first lord's 
Deck. T.A.'viZ 


fRo |liiiltfS]ifiixiiin BirthEiinj. pro 


Anticipating time with starting courage. T, C, iv 5. 

For at hand, 
Not trusting to this halting legate here, 
Whom he hath used rather for sport than need, 
Is warlike John. K. J. v. 2. 


Let the end try the man. H. IV. pt. ii. ii. 2. 

Let proof speak. Cym. iii. 1 , 


What judgment shall I dread, doing no wrong ? 

You have among you many a purchased slave ; 

Which, like your asses, and your dogs, and mules, 

You use in abject, and in slavish parts, 

Because you bought them : i^all I say to you, 

Let them be free, marry them to your heirs ! 

Why sweat they under burdens ? let their beds 

Be made as soft as yours, and let their palates 

Be seasoned with such viands. You will answer, 

The slaves are ours :— so do I answer you. M. F. iv. 1. 


As doth a sail, filFd with a fretting gust. 

Command an argosy to stem the waves. R. VI. pt. hi. ii. 6. 


No port is free ; no place. 
That guard, and most unusual vigilance, 
Does not attend my taking. K. L. ii. 3 


He puts transgression to't. M. M. iii. 2, 


Prosperity's the very bond of love ; 

Whose fresh complexion, and whose heart together, 

Affliction alters. W. T. iv. 3. 

When mine hours 
Were nice and lucky, men did ransom lives 
Of me for jests. A.C. iii. 11. 


Come hither, Fabian; we'll whisper o^er a couplet or two 
of most sage saws. T. N. iii. 4. 

PROVIDENCE, (See also Omnipotence). 

Our indiscretion sometimes serves us well. 

When our deep plots do pall : and that should teach us, 

PRO IjjukBHpnriiiH Sittinimrij. pur 

PROVIDENCE,— con^fmwed 

There's a divinity that shapes our ends, 

Rough-hew them how we will. H. v. 2. 


Have you not set mine honour at the stake, 

And baited it with all the unmuzzled thoughts 

That tyrannous heart can think? T. N. iii. 1. 


Take up this mangled matter at the best : 
Men do their broken weapons rather use 
Than their bare hands. 0. i. 3. 

When we mean to build, 
We first survey the plot, then draw the model ; 
And when we see the figure of the house, 
Then must we rate the co*st of the erection : 
Which if we find outweighs ability, 
What do we then but draw anew the model" 
In fewer offices ; or, at least, desist 
To build at all? Much more, in this great work 
(Which is almost to pluck a kingdom down, 
And set another up) should we survey 
The plot of situation, and the model ; 
Consent upon a sure foundation ; 
Question surveyors, know our own estate. 
How able such a work to undergo, 
To weigh against his opposite ; or else 
We fortify in paper, and in figures. 
Using the names of men, instead of men : 
Like one, that draws the model of a house 
Beyond his power to build it ; who, half through, 
Gives o'er, and leaves his part^created cost 
A naked subject to the weeping clouds, 
And waste for churlish winter's tyranny. H. IV. pt. ii. i. 3. 


Dost thou think, because thou art virtuous, there shall be 
no more cakes and ale ? T.N. ii. 3, 


All superfluous branches 
We lop away, that bearing boughs may live. R. II. iii. 4. 


Doom'd for a certain time to walk the night. 

And, for the day, confin'd to fast in fires. 

Till the foul crimes, done in my days of nature, 

Are burnt and purg'd away. H. i. 5. 


ptR Ijnikoptnrinn Birtinnnnj. qua 


The very ice of chastity is in them. A.Y. iii. 4. 

He's honourable, 
And, doubling that, most holy. Ci/m. iii. 4. 

Who can blot that name 
"With, any just reproach ? M/A, iv. 1. 


In every thing, the purpose must weigh with the tolly. 

K IV. PT. II. ii. 2. 


Let us score their backs, 
And snatch ^em up, as we take hares, behind : 
'Tis sport to maul a runner. A.C. iv. 7. 

Mount you, my lord, tow'rd Berwick post amain ; 
Edward and Richard, like a brace of greyhounds, 
Having the fearful flying hare in sight, 
With fiery eyes, sparkling for very wrath, 
And bloody steel, grasp'd in their ireful hands. 
Are at our backs ; and therefore hence amain. 

^. F/. PT. III. ii. 5. 


All things that are 
Are Avith more spirit chased than enjoy'd. 
How like a younker, or a prodigal, 
The scarfed bark puts from her native bay, 
Ilugg'd and embraced by the strumpet wind ! 
IIow like the prodigal doth she return. 
With over-weather'd ribs, and ragged sails. 
Lean, rent, and beggar'd by the strumpet wind ! M. V. ii. 6. 

Women are angels, wooing: 
Things won are done, joy's soul lies in the doing : 
That she belov'd knows nought, that knows not this, — 
Men prize the thing ungain'd more than it is. T. 0. i. 2 



The rich stream of lords and ladies. H. VIIL iv. 1.. 

She sweeps it through the court with troops of ladies 

JT.F/. PT. II.L3. 

What a sweep of vanity comes this way ! T.A.i,2. 

SOj 26* 

QUA lljakispBuriiiii Sirtinuiinf. que 


Good lord I what madness rules in brain-sick men ; 
When, for so slight and frivolous a cause, 
Such factious emulations shall arise I H.VL pt. i. iv. 1. 

I remember a mass of things, but nothing distinctly; ti 
quarrel, but nothing wherefore. 0. ii. 3. 

I heard the clink and fall of swords 
And Cassio high in oath. 0. ii. 3. 

Thou ! why thou wilt quarrel with a man that hsith a hair 
more, or a hair less, in his beard than thou hast. Thou wilt 
quarrel with a man for cracking nuts, having no other 
reason, but because thou hast hazel eyes. 11. J. iii. 1. 

He'll be as full of quarrel and offence 
As my young mistress' dog. 0. ii.3. 


There is division, 
Although as yet the face of it be covered 
With mutual cunning. K. L. iii. 1 . 

I dare say 
This quarrel will drink blood another day. 

H. VL PT. I. ii. 4. 


She had all the royal makings of a queen ; 

As holy oil, Edward Confessor's crown. 

The rod, and bird of peace, and all such emblems, 

Laid nobly on her. H. VIIL iv. 1. 

A queen in jest, only to fill the scene. B. III. iv. 4. 

. Mab. 

0, then, I see, queen Mab hath been with you. 

She is the fairies' midwife ; and she comes 

In shape no bigger than an agate-stone, 

On the fore-finger of an alderman. 

Drawn with a team of little atomies 

Athwart men's noses as they lie asleep : 

Her waggon-spokes made of long spinners' legs ; 

The cover, of the wings of grasshoppers; 

The traces, of the smallest spider's web ; 

The collars, of the moonshine's watery beams : 

Her whip, of crickets' bone ; the lash, of film: 

Her waggoner, a small gray-coated gnat, 

Not half so big as a round little worm 

Prick'd from the lazy linger of a maid: 

Iler chariot is an empty hazle-nut. 

Made by the joiner squn-rel, or old grub. 

Time out of mind the fairies' coachmakers. 

QUE IjjnkBHpBiiriaii Dirtinimnf, qui 

QUEEN Mab,— continued. 

And in this state she gallops, night by night, 

Throuiih lovers^ brains, and then they dream of love : 

On courtiers^ knees, that dream on coiut'sies straight: 

O'er lawyers' fingers, who straight dream on fees : 

O'er ladies' lips, who straight on kisses dream ; 

^Vhich oft the angry Mab with blisters plagues, 

Because their breaths wdth sweetmeats tainted are. 

Sometimes she gallops o'er a courtier's nose, 

And then dreams he of smelling out a suit : 

And sometimes comes she with a tithe-pig's tail, 

Tickling a parson's nose as he lies asleep. 

Then dreams he of another benefice : 

Sometimes she driveth o'er a soldier's neck, 

And then dreams he of cutting foreign throats. 

Of breaches, ambuscadoes, Spanish blades, 

Of healths five fathom deep ; and then anon 

Drums in his ear; at which he starts, and wakes ; 

And, being thus frighted, swears a prayer or two, 

And sleeps again. E. /. i. 4. 


0, dear discretion, how his words are suited ! 

The fool hath planted in his memory 

An army of good words : and I do know 

A many fools, that stand in better place, 

GarnisliM like him, that for a tricksy word 

Defy the matter. M.V. iii. 5. 

To see this age ! A sentence is but a cheverill glove to 
a good wit ; how quickly the wrong side may be turn'd 
outward ! T. N. iii. 1. 

This is a riddling merchant for the nonce. H. IV. pt. i. ii. 3. 

HoAV every fool can play upon the word ! I think, the 
lest grace of wit will shortly turn into silence; and dis- 
course grow commendable in none only but parrots. 

M. V. iii. 5. 

QUICKNESS. . . . • 

Jove's lightnings, the precursors 
0' the dreadful thunder-claps, more momentary 
And sight-out-running were not. T. i. 2. 


How now, how now, mad w^ag ? What, in thy quips, 
and thy quiddities ? H. IV. pt. i. i. 2^ 

QUOTING Scripture (See also Dissimulation, Hypocrisy). 
But then I sigh, and, with a piece of scripture, 
Tell them, — that God bids us do good for evil. 

QUO lljnltEBfiMriiiii DirtiniiErti. rag 

QUOTING ScRiPTURT^, — continued. 

And thus I clothe my naked villanj 

With old odd ends, stoFn forth of holy writ ; 

And seem a saint when most I play the devil. R. 111. i. 3. 

In religion, 
What damned error, but some sober brow 
Will bless it, and approve it with a text, 
Hiding the grossness with fair ornament ? M. V. iii. 2. 

The devil can cite scripture for his purpose. 

An evil soul, producing holy witness. 

Is like a villain with a smiling cheek ; 

A goodly apple rotten at the heart : 

0, what a goodly outside falsehood hath ! M. V. i. 3. 

thou hast damnable iteration ; and art, indeed, able to 
corrupt a saint. H. IV, ft. i. i. 2. 


These are the youths that thunder at a play-house, and 
fight for bitten apples. //. VIII. v. 3. 

The cankers of a calm world. H. IV. pt. i. iv. 2. 

I'll not march through Coventry with them, that's flat. 

E. IV. PT. I. iv. 2. 


Like the wre\ith of radiant fire 
On flickering Phoebus^ front. K. i. ii. 2. 

RAGE (See also Anger, Fury). 

Eyeless rage. K. L. iii. 1. 

Lost in the labyrinth of thy fury. T. C. ii. 3. 

He's in his fit novr, and does not talk after the wisest. 

T. ii. 2. 

In rage, deaf as the sea, hasty as fire. B. II. i. 1. 

Darkness and devils ! 
Saddle my horses ; call my train together. K. L. i. 4. 

When one so great begins t^ rage, he's hunted 

Even to falling. A.C. iv. 1. 

The fiery Tybalt, with his sword prepar'd ; 

Which, as he breath' d defiance to my ears. 

He swung about his head, and cut the winds, 

W^ho, nothing hurt withal, hiss'd him in scorn. R,J. \. 1 


RAi IjinkssitBiiriEii Sirtinimrii. ral 


Did you ever liear such railing ? A, Y. iv. 3. 

Why, what a monstrous fellow art thou, thus to rail on 
one, that is neither known of thee, nor knows thee. 

Z-.i. ii.2. 
Why, what an ass am I ! — This is most brave ; 
That I, the son of a dear father, murder'd. 
Prompted to my revenge by heaven and hell. 
Must, like a whore, unpack my heart with words, 
And fall a cursing, like a very drab, 
A scullion ! H. ii. 2. 

I shall sooner rail thee into wit afid holiness; but, I 
think, thy horse will sooner con an oration, than thou learn 
a prayer without book. 2\ C. ii. 1. 

Rails on our little state of war 
Bold as an oracle : and sets Thersites, 
(A slave, whose gall coins slander like a mint,) 
To match us in comparisons with dirt. T, C. i. 3. 

AND Reproof, when worthy, or unworthy, of Regard. 

There is no slander in an allowed fool, though he do no- 
thing but rail ; nor no railing in a known discreet man, 
though he do nothing but reprove. T. N. i. 5. 


We may carry it thus for our pleasure, and his penance, 
till our very pastime, tired out of breathy prompt us to 
have mercy on him. T. N. iii. 4, 


With their own nobleness (which could have turn'd 

A distaif to a lance,) gilded pale looks, 

Part, shame, part, spirit renewed ; that some, turn'd coward 

But by example (0, a sin in war, 

Damn'd in the first beginners !) 'gan to look 

The way that they did, and to grin like lions 

Upon the pikes o' the hunters. Then began 

A stop i' the chaser, a retire ; anon, 

A rout, confusion thic^k : Forthwith they fly 

Chickens, the way which they stoop'd eagles ; slaves 

The strides of victors made ; and now our cowards 

(Like fragments in hard voyages) became 

The life o' the need ; having found the back-door open 

Of the unguarded hearts, Heavens, how they wound ! 

Some, slain before ; s.nne, dying ; some, their friends 

O'erborne i' the former wave : ten, chas'd by one, 

Are now each one the slaughter-man of twenty. Cj/m, v. 3. 


RAN lljiiktspiiriiiii DittinDKrii;* kea 


We have been down together in my sleep, 

Unbuckling helms, fisting each other^s throat, 

And wakM half dead with nothing. C, iv. 5 


Nay, an' thou'lt mouth, 
ril rant as well as thou. ZT. v. 1. 


How now ? a rat I H. iii. 4. 


How well he's read, to reason against reading ! i. L, i. 1. 


Here, man, I am at thy elbow. M. A. iii. 3. 


^Tis in grain, Sir ; 'twill endure wind and weather. 



What is a man, 
If his chief good, and market of his time, 
Be but to sleep and feed ? a beast, no more. 
Sure, lie, that made us with such large discourse. 
Looking before, and after, gave us not 
That capability and god-like reason, 
To rust in us unus'd. H. iv. 4. 

If the balauce of our lives had not one scale of reason to 
poise another of sensuality, the blood and baseness of our 
natures would conduct us to most preposterous conclusions. 

Strong reasons make strong actions. K. J. iii. 4. 

Good reasons must, of force, give place to better. J. C. iv. 3. 
The reasons you allege, do more conduce 
To the hot passion of distemper'd blood, 
Than to make up a free determination 
'Twixt right and wrong. T. C. ii. 2. 

Nay, if we talk of reason, 
Let's shut our gates, and sleep : Manhood and honour 
Should have hare hearts, would they but fat their thoughts 
With this cramm'd reason : reason and respect 
Mako livers pale, and lustihood deject. T. (7. ii.2. 

Larded with many several sorts of reasons. H. v. 4. 

You fur your gloves with reason : here are your reasons : 
You know an enemy intends you harm : 


REA Ijjaktspiiriiiii SirtinEanf. reb 

RE A SON, — continued. 

You know a sword employed is perilous ; 
And reason flies the object of all harm. T. C. ii. 2. 

No marvel, though you bite so sharp at reasons, 
You are so empty of them. T, C. ii. 2. 

Give you a reason on compulsion ! if reasons were as 
plenty as blackberries, I would give no man a reason on 
compulsion. //. IV, pt. i. ii. 4. 

I have no exquisite reason for't, but I have reason good 
enough. T. iV. ii.3. 


An exhaPd meteor, 
A prodigy of fear, and a portent 
Of broached mischief to the unborn times. H. IV, pt. i. v. 1 


Hear me more plainly. 
I have in equal balance justly weighed, 
What wrongs our arms may do, what wrongs we suffer, 
And find our griefs heavier than our offences. 
We see which way the stream of time doth run, 
And are enforc'd from our most quiet sphere 
By the rough torrent of occasion : 
And have the summary of all our griefs, 
When time shall serve, to show in articles : 
Which, long ere this, we offered to the king; 
And might by no suit gain our audience : 
When we are wrong'd, and would unfold our griefs, 
We are denied access unto liis person, 
Even by those men wlio most have done us wrong. 
Th(? dangers of the days but newly gone, 
(Whose memory is written on the earth 
With yet-appearing blood,) and the examples 
Of every minute's instance, (present now,) 
Have put us in those ill-beseeming arms : 
Not to break peace, or any branch of it ; 
But to establish here a peace indeed, 

Concurring both in name and quality. H.IV, pt. ii. iv. 1, 
Now let it work : Mischief, thou art afoot, 
Take thou what course thou wilt. J. C, iii. 2. 

If that rebellion 
Came like itself, in base and abject routs, 
Led on by bloody youth, guarded with rage, 
And countenanced by boys, and beggary ; 
You, reverend father, and these noble lords, 
Had not been here, to dress the ugly form 
Of base and bloody insurrection. H, IV pt, ii. iv. 1. 

KEB |lialvi!H|]uriaiiDhuniiari|. beb 

KEBELLIOX, — continued. 

pity, God, this miserable a;:^e ! — 

"What stratagems, how fell, how butcherly, 

Erroneous, mutinous, and unnatural, 

This deadly quarrel daily doth beget. H. VI. pt. hi. ii. 5. 

But now the Bishop 
Turns insurrection to religion : 
vSuppos'd sincere and hoi}" in his thoughts, 
He's followed both with body and with mind. H. IV. pt. ii. i. 1. 

What rein can hold licentious wickedness. 

When down the hill he holds his lierce career ? 

We may as bootless spend our vain command 

Upon th' enraged soldiers in their spoil, 

As send precepts to the Leviathan 

To come ashore. H. V. iii. 3. 

You, lord Archbishop, — 
Whose see is by a civil peace maintained ; 
Whose beard the silver hand of peace hath touch'd ; 
Whose learning and good letters peace hath tutor'd ; 
Whose white investments figure innocence. 
The dove and very blessed spirit of peace,— 
AVherefore do you so ill translate yourself, 
Out of the speech of peace, that bears such grace, 
Into the harsh and boist'rous tongue of war ? 
Turning your books to graves, your ink to blood, 
Your pens to lances : and your tongue divine 
To a loud trumpet, and a point of Avar? H. IV. pt. ii. iv. 1. 

The rebels are In Southwark ; Ely, my lord ! 

Jack Cade proclaims himself Lord Mortimer, 

Descended from the Duke of Clarence' house, 

And calls your grace usurper, openly, 

And vows to crown liimself in Westminster. 

His army is a ragged multitude 

Of hinds and peasants, rude and merciless : 

Sir Humphrey Stafford, and his brothers' death, 

Hath given them heart and courage to proceed : 

All scholars, lawyers, courtiers, gMjutlemcn, 

They call — false caterpillars, and ixitend their death. 

II. VI PT. II. iv. i. 
Noble English, you are b()ught and sold ; 
Unthread the rude eye of rebellion. 
And welcome home again discarded faith. K. J. v. 4. 

All the regions 
Do smilingly revolt ; and, Vv'ho resist. 
Are only mock'd for valiant ignorance, 
And perish const:iut fools. C. iv 6. 


KEB |!jii!vti(|UiTriaH Dirtinimnf. eec 

KEB ELLION,— co?z/Mj?,'a?. 

JMy lord, your son had only hut tlio corps, 

lUit shadows, and the shows of men, to fight: 

I'or that same word, rebeUion, did divide 

The action of their bodies from their souls ; 

And they did fi^ht with queasiness, constrain'd 

As men drink potions ; tliat their w^eapons only 

Seem'd on our side, but for their spirits and souls, 

This word, rebellion, it had froze them up, 

As iish are in a pond. II. IV. pt. ii. i. 1. 

Suffer it, and live with such as cannot rule, 

Tv'or ever will be rul'd. C iii. 1. 

Wherefore do I this ? so the question stands. 
Briefly to this end: — We are ail discasM ; 
And Avith our surfeitiniir, and w^anton hours, 
Have brought ourselves into a burning fever, 
And we must bleed for it: of which disease, 
Our late king, lUchard, being infected, died. 

II, IV. PT. II. h. 1. 

You may as well 

Strike at the heaven with your staves, as lift them. 

Against the Koman state; whose course w411 on 

The w^ay it takes, cracking ten thousand curbs 

Of more strong link asunder, than can ever 

Appear in your impediment. C. i. 1, 

No kind of traffic 
Would I admit ; no name of magistrate ; 
Letters should not be known : riclies, poverty, 
And use of service, none ; contract, succession, 
Bourn, bound of laud, tilth, vineyard, none. _ T. ii. 1, 

Abate the edge -of traitors, gracious Lord, 

That would reduce these bloody days again, 

And make poor England weep in streams of blood. 

H. Ill V. 4 

RECITATION (See also Speech). 

Tore God, my lord, w^ell spoken ; wath good accent, and 
good discretion. ,{/. ii. 2. 

We'll have a speech straight : Come, give us a taste of 
your quality; come, a passionate speech. R. ii. 2. 


I am ill at reckoning, it fitteth the spirit of a tapster. 

L. L. i. 2. 

Lord, Sir, it were a pity you should get your living by 

reckoning. Sir. L. L. v. 2 

REC lljalUHjitariiiu Sirtintian}. rec 


Most reverend signlor, do jou know my voice ? 0. i. 1. 

Long is it since I saw him, 
But time hath nothing blurred those lines of favour, 
Which then he wore. Cym. iv. 2. 

Can virtue hide itself? Go to, mum, you are he ; graces 
will appear, and there's an end. M, A. ii. 1. 


0, it comes o'er my memory, 
As doth the raven o'er the infected house, 
Boding to all. 0. iv. 1. 


Praise us as we are tasted, allow us as we prove. 

r.aiii. 2. 


This feather stirs ; she lives ! if it be so. 

It is a chance that does redeem all sorrows 

That ever I have felt. K, i. v. 3. 


Sweet recreation barr'd, what doth ensue. 

But moody and dull melancholy. 

(Kinsman to grim and comfortless despair,) 

And, at her heels, a huge infectious troop 

Of pale distemperatures, and foes to life ? 

In food, in sport, and life-preserving rest 

To be disturbed, would mad or man, or beast. C. E. v. 1. 


Yet I am thankful : if my heart were great, 

^Twould burst at this : Captain, I'll be no more ; 

But I will eat and drink, and sleep as soft 

As captain shall : simply the thing I am 

Shall make me live. Who knows himself a braggart, 

Let him fear this ; for it will come to pass. 

That every braggart shall be found an ass : 

Rust, sword ! cool, blushes ! and, Parolles, live ! 

Safest in shame ! being fool'd, by foolery thrive ! 

There's place, and means, for every man alive. A. W, iv. 3. 


In very truth, Sir, I had as lief be hanged. Sir, as go ; 
and yet, for mine own part, Sir, I do not care ; but rather, 
because I am unwilling, and, for mine own part, I have a 
desire to stay with my friends ; else. Sir, I did not care, for 
mine own part, so much. H. IV, pt. ii. iii. 4, 

314 . 

KEF llfiikBsptiiiiiiH SirtiHEiin];. reg 


By the lord, Horatio, these three years T have taken 
notice of it ; the age is grown so picked, that the toe of the 
peasant comes so near the heel of the courtier, that he galls 
his kibe. H. v. 1. 

T will be proud, I will read politic authors, I will baffle 
Sir Toby, I will wash off gross acquaintance, I will be 
point-device, the very man. T. N. ii. 5. 


God amend us, God amend ! we are much out o' the way. 

L. L. iv. 3. 
Consideration like an angel came, 
And whipped the offending Adam out of him 
Leaving his body as a paradise, 
To envelop and contain celestial spirits. H. F. i. 1. 

The shame itself doth speak 
For instant remedy. K. L. i. 4. 

My reformation, glittering o^er my fault, 
Shall show more goodly, and attract more eyes. 
Than that which hath no foil to set it off. 

K IV, FT. I. i. 2. 
I tell thee, Jack Cade, the clothier, means to drciss the 
commonwealth, and turn it, and set a neAV nap upon it. 

H. VL PT. II. iv. 2. 

I must give over this life, and I will give it over ; by the 

Lord, an I do not, I am a villain. H. IV, pt. i. i. 2. 

REGAL Ceremonies (See also Ceremoxy). 

This gentle and unforc'd accord of Hamlet 

Sits smiling to my heart ; in grace Avheroof, 

No jocouud health, that Denmark drinks to-day, 

But the great cannon to the clouds shall tell ; 

And the king's rouse the heaven shall bruit again, 

Bespeaking earthly thunder. H. i. 2. 

As he drains his draughts of Rhenish down, 
The kettle-drum and trumpet thus bray out, 
The triumph of his pledge. H. i. 4, 

There roared the sea, and trumpet-clangour sounds. 

H. IV, FT. II. V. 5. 

The king shall drink to Hamlet's better breath ; 

And in the cup an union shall he throw 

Richer than that which four successive kings 

In Denmark's crown have worn ; — Give me the cups ' 

And let the kettle to the trumpet speak. 

The trumpet to the cannoneer withoutj 


REG iljElviBjiJiiriiiu Sirtinnartf. reg 

REGAL Ceremonies, — continued. 

The cannons to the heavens, the heavens to earth, 

Now the king drinks to Hamlet. H. v. 5, 

A garish flag, 
To be the aim of every dangerous shot: 
A sign of dignity, a breath, a bubble. B. III. iv. 4. 

The flattering index of a direful pageant, 
One heav'd a high, to be hurl'd down below. B. III. iv. 4. 


In this, the antique and well noted face 

Of plain old form is much disfigured : 

And, like a shifted wind unto a sail, 

It makes the course of thought to fetch about : 

Startles and frights consideration ; 

Makes sound opinion sick, and truth suspected, 

For putting on so new a fashioned robe. K. J. iv. 2. 


Those that I reverence, those I fear; the wise: 

At fools I laugh, not fear them. Cym. iv. 2. 

Why, he is so made on here within, as if he were son- and 
heir to Mars : set at upper end o^ the table : no questions 
asked him by any of the senators, but they stand bald be- 
fore him. C. iv. 5. 

Our general himself makes a mistress of him ; sanctifies 
himself with ^s hand, and turns up the white o^ the eye to hia 
discourse. C. iv. 5. 


I hold you as a thing enskied, and sainted ; 

^' '^ * an immortal spirit ; 

And to be talked with in sincerity 

As with a saint. M. M. i. 5. 


To do this deed, 
Promotion follows : If I could find example 
Of thousands, that had struck anointed kings, 
And iiourish'd after, Td not do't: but since 
Kor brass, nor stone, nor parcliment, bears not one, 
Let villainy itself forswear't. W.T. i. 2, 

As full of valour as of royal blood : 
Loth have I spilt; 0, would the deed were goodl 
For now the devil, that told me, — I did well, 
{^'ays, that this deed is chronicled in hell. B. II. y. 6. 

If it were done, when His done, then 'twere well 
It were done quickly : If the assassination 

REG llialt ii9:i'uri{iit Sirtinimnj. hem 


Jould trammel up the consequence, and catch, 

With his surcease, success ; that but this blow 

Might be the be-all and the end-all ; here, 

But here, upon this bank and shoal of time, — 

We'd jump the life to come. — But in these cases, 

We still have judgment here ; that we but teach 

Bloody instructions, which, being taught, return 

To plague th^ inventor : This even handed justice 

Commends the ingredients of our poison'd chalice 

To our own lips. lie's here in double trust ; 

First, as I am his kinsman and his subject, 

Strong both against the deed ; then,' as his host, 

Who should against his murderer shut the door, 

Not bear the knife m3-self. Besides, this Duncan 

Hath borne his faculties so meek, hath been 

So clear in his great office, that his virtues 

Will plead like angels, trumpet-tongued, against 

The deep damnation of his taking off: 

And pity, like a naked new-born babe, 

Striding the blast, or hoaven^s cherubim, horsed 

Ujion the sightless couriers of the air, 

Shall blow the horrid deed in oyqi-j eye, 

That tears shall drown the wind. — I have no spur 

To prick the sides of my intent, ])ut only 

Vaulting ambition, whicb o'erleaps itself, 

And falls ou t'other side. M. i. 7. 


I had rather 
Have skippM from sixteen years of age to sixty, 
To have turnM my leaping time into a crutch, 
Than have seen this. Cf/m. iv. 2. 


A little more than kin, and less than kind. II. i. 2. 

RELIGION (See also Dissijiulation, IlrpocRisY, Quoting Scrip- 
It is religion that doth make vows kept. K, J. iii. 1. 

I see you have some religion in you, that you fear. 

Ct/m, i. 5 


Things without remedy 
Should be without regard. M. iii. 2. 

Well of that remedy can no man speak. 

That heals the lo>-s, and cures not the disgrace. Poems. 

317 27* 

REM IjinltBHiiBiiriiiii DirtiiiEiini. rem 

REMEDIES Must be suited to the Case. 

Sir, these cold ways, 
That seem like prudent helps, are very poisoDOus 
Where the disease is violent C. iii. 1. 

REMEMBRANCE (See also Memory). 

Remember thee ? 
Yea, from the table of my memory 
ril wipe away all trivial fond records, 
All saws of books, all forms, all pressures past. 
That youth and observation copied there ; 
And thy commandment all alone shall live 
Within the book and volume of my brain, 
IJnmix'd with baser matter: yes, by heaven. H. 1.5. 

By our remembrances of days foregone. A. W. i. 3. 

I cannot but remember such things were 

That were most precious to me. M. iv. 3. 

Screw'd to my memory. Ci/m. ii. 2. 

Beshrew your heart, 
Fair daughter! you do draw my spirits from me, 
With new lamenting antient oversights. H, IV, ft. ii. ii. 3. 

His good remembrance. Sir, 
Lies richer in your thoughts, than on his tomb ; 
So in approof lives not his epitaph, 
As in your royal speech. A. W. i. 2. 

So came I a widow ; 
And never shall have length of life enough. 
To rain upon remembrance with mine eyes, 
That it may grow and sprout as high as heaven. 
For recordation to my noble husband. H. IV. ft. ii. ii. 3. 

Whose remembrance yet 
Lives in men's eyes : and will, to ears and tongues. 
Be theme and hearing ever. Cym. iii. 1. 

Awake remembrance of these valiant dead, 

And with your puissant arm renew their feats. H. F. i. 2. 

Briefly thyself remember. K. L iv. G. 


He must be told on't, and he shall : the office 
Becomes a woman best ; I'll tak't upon me : 
If I prove honey-mouth'd, let my tongue blister; 
Aud never to my red-look'd anger be 

The trumpet any more. W.T, ii. 2. 


KEM IjialtopariEii SirtiniiEri}. ken 

REMORSE (See also Compunctiox.) 

When he shall hear she died upon his words, 

The idea of her life shall sweetly creep 

Into his study of imagination ; 

And every lovely organ of her life 

Shall come apparelFd in more precious habit, 

More moving delicate, and full of life, 

Into the eye and prospect of his soul, 

Than when she livM indeed. M. A. iv. 1. 

ril go no more : 
I am afraid to think what I have done ; 
Look on^t again I dare not. M. ii. 2. 

Nothing in his life 
Became him, like the leaving it ; he died 
As one that had been studied in his death. 
To throw away the dearest thing he ow'd. 
As 'twere a careless trifle. 3T. i.4. 

How sharp the point of this remembrance is ! T. ii. 1. 

0, would the deed were good ! 
For now the devil, that told me — I did well. 
Says, that this deed is chronicled in hell. E. II. v. 6. 

Opce a day I'll visit 
The chapel where they lie ; and tears shed there 
Shall be my recreation. W.T. iii. 2. 


Eenumeration ! 0, that's the Latin word for toee farthings. 

L. L. iii. 1. 


And newly move H. V. iv. 1. 

With casted slough and fresh legerity. 


Thy truth then be thy dower : 
For, by the sacred radiance of the sun ; 
The mysteries of Hecate, and the night ; 
By all the operations of the orbs, 
From whom we do exist, and cease to be : 
Here I disclaim all my paternal care, 
Propinquity, and property of blood. 
And as a stranger to my heart and me 
Hold thee, from this, for ever, K, Z. i. I. 


In truth, there's wondrous things spoke of him. C. ii. 1. 

I'he man is noble ; and his fame folds in 

This orb o' the earth. C v. 5. 


REN lljalttHpatiiin SirtinnEnf. rep 


Leo^itimation, name, and all is gone. K. J. i. 1. 


0, I do not like that paying back, ^tis a double labour. 

H. IV. PT. I. iii. 3. 


Yv-'ho by repentance is not satisfied 

Is nor of heaven, nor earth ; for these are pleasM ; 

By penitence th' Eternal's wrath's appeas'd. T. G- v. 4. 

Bo witness to me, thou blessed moon, 

When men revolted shall upon record 

Rear hateful memory, poor Enobarbus did 

Refore thy face repent. A. C. iv. 9. 

And begin to patch up thine old body for heaven. 

H. IV. PT. II. ii. 4. 
Like bright metal on a sullen ground, 
IMy reformation, glittering o'er my fault, 
Shall show more goodly, and attract more eyes, 
Than that which hath no foil to set it off. H. IV. pt. i. i.2. 
Never came reformation in a flood, 
"With such a heavy current, scow'ring iaults : 
Nor ever hydra-headed wilfulness 
So soon did lose his seat, and fall at once, 
As in this king. H. V. i. 1. 

What is done, cannot be now amended : 
Men shall' deal unadvisedly sometimes, 
Which after hours give leisure to repent. R. Ill iv. 4. 

Sadly I survive 
To mock the expectation of the world ; 
To frustrate prophecies ; and to raze out 
Rotten opinion, which hath writ me down 
After my seeming. The tide of blood in me 
Tlath proudly flow'd in vanity till now ; 
Now doth it turn, and ebb back to the sea ; 
Where it shall mingle with the state of floods^ 
And flow henceforth in formal majesty. H. IV. pt. it. v. 2, 
Hold up your hands ; say nothing, I'll speak all. 
They say, best men are moulded out of faults, 
And, for the most, became much more the better 
For being a little bad ; so may my husband. M. M. v. 1. 
The prince will, in the perfectness of time, 
Cast joff his followers ; and their memory 
Shall as a pattern or a measure live. 
By which his grace must mete the lives of others : 
Turning past evils to advantages. H. IV. pt. ii. iv. 4. 

. 320 

REP |}iakt5|iBariEii SirtinHnnf. rep 

REVEWrANCE— continued. 

I do not shame 
To tell you what I was, since my conversiom 
So sweetly tastes, being the thing I am. A. Y. iv. c . 

Forgive me, Valentine ; if hearty sorrow * 

Be a sufficient ransom for offence, 
I tender it here : I do as truly suffer, 

As e'er I did commit. T. G. v. 4. 

For heaven doth know, so shall the world perceive, 
That I have turn'd away my former self; 
So will I those that kept me company. H. IV. pt. ii. v. 5. 

AVell, Pll repent, and that suddenly, while I am in som"; 
liking ; I shall be out of heart shortly, and then I shall 
have no strength to repent. An I have not forgotten what 
the inside of a church is, I am a peppercorn, a brewer's 
horse: the inside of a church ! Company, villainous com- 
pany, has been the spoil of me. //. IV. ft. i. iii. 3. 

"Well, if my wind were but long enough to say my pray- 
ers, I would repent. M. W. iv. 5. 


There's gold for you ; sell me your good report. C/jm. ii. 3. 
Bring me no more reports. M, v. 3, 


Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this ? E. J. ii. 2. 


Our foster-nurse of nature is repose. K. L. iv. 4. 


It is supposed, 
He, that meets Hector, issues from our choice : 
And choice, being mutual act of all our souls, 
Makes merit her election ; and doth boil, 
As 'twere from forth us all, a man distill'd 
Out of our virtues. T. C. i. 3, 


0, Lymoges ! 0, Austria ! thou dost shame 

That bloody spoil : Thou slave, thou wretch, thou coward ; 

Thou little valliant, great in villainy ! 

Thou ever strong upon the stronger side ! 

Thou fortune's champion, that dost never fight 

But when her humorous ladj^ship is by 

To teach thee safety ! thou art perjur'd, too, 

And sooth'st up greatness. What a fool art thou, 

A ramping fool, to brag, and stamp, and swear, 

Upon my party ! Thou cold-blooded slave, 

REP lljaktspnrinH BirtinnErti. kep 


Ilast thou not spoke like thunder on my side ? 

Been sworn my soldier, bidding me depend 

Upon thy stars, thy fortune, and thy strength ? 

And dost thou now fall over to my foes ? 

Thou wear a lion's hide ! doff it for shame, 

And hang a calf-skin on those recreant limbs ! K, J. iii. 1. 


Madam, I have a touch of your condition 

And cannot bear the accent of reproof. B. III. iv. 4. 

REPROOF Ill-timed. 

My lord Sebastian, 
The truth you speak doth lack some gentleness, 
And time to speak it in : you rob the sore, 
When you should bring the plaster. T. ii. 1. 


No, rather I abjure all roofs, and choose 

To wage against the enmity o' the air ; 

To be a comrade w^ith the wolf and owl, 

Necessity's sharp pinch ! K, i. ii. 4, 

I'll never see't ; for, I am sure, my nails 

Are stronger than mine eyes. A. C. v. 2. 


I have said too much unto a heart of stone, 

And laid my honour too unchary out. T. N. iii. 4. 

^ What ! Michael Cassio, 
That came a wooing with you ; and many a time, 
When I have spoke of you dispraisingly, 
Ilath ta'en your part ; to have so much to do 
To bring him in 1 Q, iii. 3. 

REPUTATION (See also Honour). 

Good name, in man, and woman, dear my lord, 

Is the immediate jewel of their souls : 

Who steals my purse, steals trash; 'tis something, nothing; 

'Twas mine, 'tis his, and has been slave to thousands ; 

Bub he, that filches from me my good name, 

Robs me of that which not enriches him, 

And makes me poor indeed. 0. iii. 3, 

The bubble reputation. J. K ii. 7. 

The gravity and stillness of your youth 

The world hath noted, and your name is great 

In mouths of wisest censure. 0. ii. 3. 

REP IjiakispMiriiiii iirttnnaiii. ees 

REPUTATION,— con^mwec^. 

Be not amazed ; call all your senses to you : Defend your 
reputation, or bid farewell to your good life for ever. 

M. W. iii. 3. 
I see, my reputation is at stake ; 
My fame is shrewdly gor'd. T. C, iii. 3. 

These wise men that give fools money, get themselves 
& good report, after fourteen years' purchase. T, N. iv. l. 

0, I have lost my reputation. I have lost the immortal 
part, Sir, of myself; and what remains is bestial. 0. ii. 3. 

Reputation is an idle and most false imposition ; oft got 
without merit, and lost without deserving. 0, ii. 3 . 

I have offended reputation ; 
A most unnoble swerving. A.C. iii. 9. 

I would to God, thou and I knew where a commodity of 
good names were to be bought. H. IV. pt. i. i. 2, 

REQUEST, Unseasonable. 

Thou troublest me, Tm not i'the vein. i?. IIL iv. 2. 


Youth, thou bear^st thy father^s face ; 

Frank nature, rather curious than in haste, 

Ilath well compost thee. Thy father's moral parts 

May'st thou inherit too. A. W. i. 2. 


Thou art all ice, thy kindness freezes. M. Ill, iv. 2. 

Marry, before your ladyship, I grant, 

She puts her tongue a little in her heart, 

And chides with thinking. 0. ii. 1. 


0, you mighty gods ! 
This world I do renounce ; and in your sights, 
Shake patiently my great affliction off: 
If I could bear it longer, and not fall 
To quarrel with your great opposeless wills. 
My snuff, and loathed parts of nature, should 
Burn itself out. K. L. iv. 6. 

Happy is your grace. 
That can translate the stubborness of fortune 
Into so quiet and so sweet a style. A.Y, ii. 1, 

father abbot. 
An old man, broken with the storms of state, 
Is come to lay his weary bones among ye ; 
Give him a little earth for charity. JET. VIIL iv 2. 

RES |liaIvM|iEiiriiiii Dirtiniianf. PcEs 

RESIGNATION— coiitimied. 

Then, dreadful trumpet, sound the general doom I 

E. J. iii. 2. 
I'll queen it no inch further ; 
But milk my ewes, and weep. W.T. iv. 3. 

Cheer your heart : 
Be you not troubled with the time, which drives 
O'er your content these strong necessities ; 
But lit determin'd things to destiny 
Hold unbewail'd their way. A. C. iii. 6. 

Grieve not that lam falFn to this for you : 

For herein fortune shows herself more kind 

Than is her custom : it is still her use, 

To let the wretched man outlive his wealth, 

And view with hollow eye, and wrinkled brow, 

An age of poverty ; from the ling'ring penance 

Of such a misery doth she cut me off. M. V. iv. 1. 

God be with you !— I have done. 0. i. 3. 

RESOLVE, Murderous. 

Come, come, you spirits 
That tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here ; 
And fill me, from the crown to the toe, top-full 
Of direst cruelty I make thick my blood, 
Stop up the access and passage to remorse ; 
That no compunctious visitings of Nature 
Shake my full purpose, nor keep peace between 
The effect, and it ! Come to my woman's breasts. 
And take my milk for gall, you murd'ring ministers, 
Wherever in your sightless substances 
You wait on Nature's mischief ! Come, thick night, 
And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell ! 
That my keen knife see not the wound it makes : 
Nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark. 
To cry hold! hold! M. i. 5. 

RESOLUTION (See also Determination). 

We will not from the helm, to sit and weep ; 

But keep ou.^ course, though the rough wind say. No. 

//. VL FT. III. V. 4 

Muse not that I thus suddenly proceed, 

For what I will, I will, and there an end. T. G. i. 3. 

The harder match'd, the greater victory: 
My mind presageth happy gain and conquest 

M. VL FT. III. V. i 

Strike now, or else the iron cools. H. VI. ft. hi. v. 1. 

RES |ljiiko]iMriaE Sirtiniinrii. ret 

IIESOLUTIO^, ^continued. 

1 should be sick, 
But that my resolution helps me. Cf/m, in. 0. 

The cause is in my will. J.O. ii. 2, 

We must have bloody noses, and crack'd crowns, 
And pass them current too. Gods me, my horse ! 

H. IV. PT. I. ii. tj. 


To forswear the full stream of the world, and to live in a 
nook merely monastic. A.Y. iii. 2. 

Are not these woods 
More free from peril than the envious court ? 
Here feel Ave but the penalty of Adam, 
'J'he seasons' difference; as, the icy fiing-, 
And churlish chiding of the vrinter's wind ; 
AVhich wlien it bites and blov,^s upon my body, 
Even till I shrink with cold, I smile, and say, — 
This is no flattery ; these are counsellors 
That feelingly persuade me what I am. A.Y. ii.l. 

L('t me not live, — 
Thus his good melancholy oft Ix'gaii, 
On the catastroph(3 and heel f^f pastime, 
When it was out, — Lot me not live, quoth ho, 
After my flame lacks oil, to be the snuff 
Of younger spirits, whose apprehensive senses 
All but new things disdain ; whose judgments are 
Mere fathers of their garments; whose constancies 
Expire before their fashions : This he wisli'd 
I, after him, do after him wish too, 
Since I nor wax nor honey can bring home, 
I quickly were dissolved from my hive, 
To give some labourers room. A.W.i. 2, 

And this our life, exc^mpt from pn])lic haunt. 
Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, 
Sermons in stones, and good in every thing. A.Y. ii. 1, 

For mine own part, I could be well content 
To entertain the lag-end of my life 

AVith quiet hours. //. JF. pt. i. v. 1, 

To shake all cares and business from our age ; 
Conferring them on younger strengths, while we, 
Unburden'd, crawl toward death. K. L. i. 1 


A poor sequestered stag. 
That from the hunter's aim had ta'en a hurt, 
Did come to languish. , A.Y. ii 1. 

RET lljiikBspiiriaii Dirtiniiani. ih-t 


That high All-seer which I dallied with, 

Hath turnM my feigned prayer on my head, 

And given in earnest what I begg'd in jest. F. III. v, !. 

Till now you have gone on, and fiil'd the time 

"With all licentious measure, making your wills 

The scope of justice ; till now, myself and such 

As slept within the shadow of your power, 

Have wander'd with our traversed arms, and breath'd 

Our sufierance vainly : Now the time is flush, 

When crouching marrow, in the bearer strong. 

Cries of itself, No more : now breathless wrong, 

Shall sit and pant in your great chairs of ease ; 

And pursy insolence shall break his wind, 

With fear and horrid flight. T. A. v. 5. 

Thus hath the course of justice wheel'd about, 
And left thee but a very prey to time ; 
Having no more but thought of what thou wert, 
To torture thee the more, being what thou art. 
Thou didst usurp my place. And dost thou not 
• Usurp the just proportion of my .sorrow? B. Ill, iv 4^ 

So just is God to right the^ innocent I . JR. Ill, i. 3. 

But it is no matter: 
Let Hercules himself do what he may, 
The cat will mew, the dog will have his day. H, v. 1. 

God ! I fear, thy justice will take hold 

On me, and you, and mine, and yours, for tljis. R. Ill, ii. 1, 

For this down-trodden equity, we tread, 

In warlike march, these greens before your town. 

And thus the whirligig of time brings in his reveng^es. 

T. N, V. 1. 

When to the sessions of sweet silent thought, 
I sunmion up remembrance of things past, 

1 sigh the lack of many a thing I sought, 

And with old woes, new waile my dear time's waste ; 
Then Cttn I drown an eye (unus'd to flow) 

For precious friends hid in death^s dateless night, 
And weep afresh love's long since cancelFd woe. 

And moan the expense of many a vanisht sight. 
Then can I grieve at grievances foregone, 

And heavily from woe to woe tell o'er 
Tho sad account of fore-bemoaned moan. 

Which I now jniy, as if not paid before. Poems, 


REV Iji-nknpiirinii DirtinHnrif* rev 


Heavy-headed revel. H. i. 4. 

Our vaults have wept 
With drunken spilth of wine ; when every room 
Ilath blaz'd with lights, and bray'd with minstrelsy. 

T. A. ii. 2. 


If a Jew wrong a Christian, what is his humility? — ■ 
revenge ; if a Christian wrong a Jew, what should his 
sufferance be, by Christian example ? — why, revenge. 

M. V. iii. 1. 
0, I could play the woman with mine eyes. 
And braggart with my tongue ! — But, gentle heaven, 
Cut short all intermission ; front to front, 
Uring thou this fiend of Scotland, and myself; 
Within my sAvord's length set him ; if he 'scape, 
Heaven forgive him too 1 M. iv. 3. 

To weep, is to make less the depth of grief ; 
Tears, then, for babes ; blows, and revenge for me. 

If. VI. PT. III. ii. 1. 
Haste me to know it ; that I, with wings as swift 
As meditation, or the thoughts of love. 
May sweep to my revenge. U. i. 5. 

Had I thy brethren here, their lives, and thine, 

Were not revenge sufficient for me ; 

No, if I digg'd up tfiy forefathers' graves, 

And hung their rotten coffins up in chains, 

It could not slake mine ire, nor ease my heart. 

The sight of any of the house of York " 

Is as a fury to torment my soul ; 

And till I root out their accursed line. 

And leave Aot one alive, I live in hell. H. VI. pt. hi. i. 3. 

Up, sword ; and know thou a more horrid bent, 

When ho is drunk, asleep, or in his rage ; 

Or in the incestuous pleasures of his bed ; 

At gaming, swearing ; or a])out some act 

That has no relish of salvation in't: 

Then trip him, that liis heels may kick at heaven, 

And that his soul may be as damn'd, and black 

As hell, whereto it goes. H. iii. 3. 

To hell, allegiance 1 vows, to the blackest devil I 

Conscience, and grace, to the profoundest pit ! --^ 

I dare damnation : To this point I stand, — 

That both the worlds I give to negligence. 

Let come what comes ; only, Pll be revengM. II. iv. 5. 


REYl^^GE,— continued. 

I am disgrac'd, impeachM, and baffled here ; 
Pierc'd to the soul with slander's venom' d spear ; 
The which no balm can cure, but his heart's blood 
AVhich breath'd this poison. E. 11. i. i . 

Mj bloody thoughts, with violent pace, 
Shall ne'er look back, ne'er ebb to humble love, 
Till that a capable and wide revenge 
Swallow them up. 0. iii. 3. 

Ceesar's spirit, ranging for revenge, 
With Ate by his side, come hot from hell, 
Shall, in these confines, with a monarch's voice, 
Cry Havock ! and let slip the dogs of war. J.C. iii. 1. 

To revenge is no valour, but to bear. T. A. iii. 5. 

Had all hisk hairs been lives, my great revenge 
Had stomach for them all. 0. v. 2, 


That angel of the world doth make distinction 

Of place 'twixt high and low. Cijm, iv.*2 


He seems 
Proud and disdainful ; harping on what I am ; 
Not what he knew I was : He makes me angry ; 
And at this time most easy ^tis to do't ; 
When my good stars, that were my former guides, 
Have left their orbs, and shot their fires. 
Into the abysm of hell. A.C. iii. IL 

Against the blown rose may they stop their nose. 
That kneel'd unto the buds. A.C, iii. 11 


Here, here ; here's an excellent place ; here we may see 
most bravely : I'll tell you them all by their names as they 
pass by. T. 0.1.2'. 


Such is the infection of the time. 
That fcr the health and physic of our right, 
We cannot deal but with the very hand 
Of stern injustice and confused wrong. K. J. v. 2. 


Sweet smoke of rhetoric I L. L. iii. 1. 

RHYMSTER (See also Poet, Ballad-monger). 

Ha, Ha ; how vilely doth this cynic rhyme ! /. C, iv. 3, 

Hang odes upon hawthorns, and elegies on brambles. 



HHY- llfiikEspBEriaH Dirtimiiinj. roa 

nilYMSTEU,— continued. 

What should the wars do with the jigging fools ? /. C. iv. 3. 

This is the very false gallop of verses ; why do you iii-- 
fect yourself with them ? A, Y. iii. 2. 

I was not born under a rhyming planet, nor I cannot woo 
in festival terms. M. A. v. 2. 


There never was a truer rhyme. Let us cast away 
nothing, for we may live to have need of such a verse. 


As is the ooze and bottom of the sea . 

With sunken wreck and sumless treasuries. H. V, i. 2. 

RICHES AND Goodness. 

The old proverb is pretty well parted between my master 
Shylock and you, Sir ; you have the grace of God, Sir, and 
he hath enough. M. V. ii. 2. 


Call the rest of the watch together, and thank God you 
are rid of a knave. M.A. iii. 3. 


Shall quips, and sentences, and these paper bullets of the 
brain, awe a man from the career of his humour ? 

M. A. ii. 3. 
And in this fashion. 
All our abilities, gifts, natures, shapes, 
Severals and generals of grace exact. 
Achievements, plots, orders, preventions, 
Excitements to the field, or speech for truce. 
Success or loss, what is, or is not, serves 
As stuff for these two to make paradoxes. T.C. i. 3. 


There is no more mercy in him, than there is milk in a 
male tiger. C. v. 4. 


There is no fear of Got in a riot. M. W. i. 1. 


He does smile his face into more lines, than are in the 
new map, with the augmentation of the Indies. T.N, iii. 2. 


O Hwas a din to fright a monster's ear ; 

To make an earthquake ! sure it was the roar 

Of a whole herd of lions. T. ii. 1 

329 28* 

KOA |l;akt3|iriiri{iii Sirtiniiani. eul 

ROAR, — confimied. 

You may do it extempore, for it is nothing "but roaring. 

M. N. I 2. 


This is the most omnipotent vilhiin that ever cried, Stand, 
to a true man. H. IV, ft. i. i. 2. 

ROGUE (See also Kxave, Villain). 

Here's an overwiioening rogue ! T. N. ii. 5 

ROSES(oF York and Lancaster). 

This ])rawl to-d;ij, 
Grown to this faction, in the Temple Garden, 
Shall send, lJ0t^veen the rod rose and the white, 
A th(>usand souls to death and deadly night. 

H. VL FT. I. ii. 4. 
"W^cll, I'll find friends to wear my bleeding roses 
That shall maintain what I have said is true : 
Ay, thou shalt find ns ready for thee still, 
And know us by these colours for thy foes. H. VL ft. i. ii.4. 
And, by my soul, this pale and angry rose, 
As cognizance of my blood-drinking hate, 
Will 1 for ever, and iny faction, wear ; 
Until it wither with me to the grave, 
Or flourish to the height of my degree. H. VL ft. i. ii. 4. 


Something is rotten in the state of Denmark. H. i. 4. 


I would have men of such constancy put to sea, that their 
business might be every thing, and their intent every where; 
for that's it, that always makes a good voyage of nothing. 

T. N, ii. 4. 

ROYALTY IN Subjection. 

To be a queen in bondage, is more vile 

Than is a slave in base servility ; 

For princes should be free. H. VL ft. i. v. 3. 


None of noble sort would so offend a virgin. M. N. iii. 2. 


The ruin speaks, that sometime it was a worthy building. 

Cym. iv. 2. 


He, who the sword of heaven will bear, 
Should be as holy as severe ; 
Pattern in himself to know, 


RUL |>ljolvtH|iBEriatt Dittinnnrii. rfs 

RULERS, — continued. 

Grace to stand, and virtue g;o ; 

More nor less to others paying, 

Than by self-offences weighing. 

Shame to him, whose cruel striking , 

Kills for faults of his own liking. M. M. iii. -*. 

There be, that can rule Naples 
As well as he that sleeps ; lords, that can prate 
As amply and unnecessarily, 
As this Gonza^lo. T. ii. 1 


Rumour doth double, like the voice and echo, 

The numbers of the fear'd. II.IV, pt. ii. iii. 1. 

There's toys abroad ; anon I'll tell thee more. K. J. i. 1 

For so I have strew' d it in the common ear, 

And so it is receiv'd. M. M. i. 4, 

Ry holy Paul, they love his grace but lightly, 
That till his ears with such dissentious rumours. 

R. Ill i. 3. 
Old men, and' beldams, in the streets 

Do prophecy upon it dangerously. K. J. iv.2. 

Open your ears : for which of you will stop 
The vent of hearing, when loud Rumour speaks ? 
I, from the orient, to the drooping west. 
Making the wind my post-horse, still unfold 
The acts commenced on tiiis ball of earth : 
Upon my tongues continual slanders ride ; 
The which in every language I pronounce, 
Staffing the ears of men with false reports. 
I speak of peace, wliile covert enmity, 
Under the smile of safety, wounds the world : 
And who but Rumour, who but onl}^ T, 
IMake fearful musters, and prepar'd defence ; 
AVhilst the big year, swoln with some other grief, 
Is thought with child by the stern tyrant war, 
And no such matter ? Rumour is a pipe 
Blown by surmises, jealousies, conjectures ; 
And of so ensy and so y)lain a stop, 
That the Ijlunt monster with uncounted heads, 
'J'he still discordant wavering multitude^ 
Can play upon it. H. IV. pt. ii. i. Ind. 

RUSHING OF A Multitude. 

Ne'er through an arch so hurried the blown tide, 

As the recoinforted through the gates. C. v. 4, 


SAC |{iakr]j|iriiriii!i Birtinnnxij, sad 


A good slierris-sack has a two-fold operation in it. It 
ascends me into the brain: dries me there all the foolish, 
and dull, and criidj vapours which environ it: makes it 
apprehensive, quick, and forgetive, full of nimble, fiery, 
and delectable shapes; which' delivered o'er to the voice, 
(the tongue) which is the birth, becomes excellent wit. The 
second property of your excellent sherris is, — the warming 
of the blood ; which, before cold, and settled, left the liver 
white and pale, which is the badge of pusillanimity and 
cowardice ; but the sherris warms it, and makes it course 
from the inwards to the parts extreme. It illuminateth the 
face ; which, as a beacon, gives warning to all the rest of 
this little kingdom, man, to arin : and then the vital com- 
moners, and inland petty spirits muster me all to their cap- 
tain, the heart ; who, great, and puffed up with this retinue, 
doth any deed of courage ; and this valour comes of sher- 
ris: So that skill in the weapon is nothing, without sack ; 
for that sets it a-work : and learning, a mere hoard of gold, 
kept by a devil ; till sack commences it, and sets it in act 
and use. Hereof comes it, that prince Harry is valiant : for 
the cold blood he did naturally inherit of" his father, he 
hath, like lean, steril, and bare land, manured, husbanded, 
and tilled, with excellent endeavour of drinking good, and 
good store of fertile sherris ; that he is become very hot, 
and valiant. If I had a tliousand sons, the first human 
principle I would teach them, should be, — to forswear thin 
potations, and addict themselves to sack. 

KIV. PT. II. iv. 3. 


In sooth, I know not why I am so sad ; 

It wearies me ; you say, it wearies you : 

But how I caught it, found it, or came by't, 

AVhat stuff ^tis made of, whereof it is born, 

I am to learn. M. P"! i. 1 

Ilowe'er it be, 
I cannot but be sad ; so heavy sad, 
As, though in thinking, on no thought I think, — 
Makes me with heavy nothing fiiint and shrink. 


Such a want-wit sadness makes of me, 
That I have much ado to knt^w myself. M. V, i, 1. 


SAD, IIjElvSspiiriiiu l)irtinDitrt[. . sat 

SADl^ESS,— continued, 

I do note, 
That grief and patience, rooted in him both, 
Mingle their spurs together. Ct/m. iv. % 

There is no measure in the occasion that breeds it, there- 
fore the sadness is without limit. M.A, i. 3. 


This learned constable is too cunning to be understood. 

M.A. V. 1. 

SALUTATION (See also Benediction). 

Rest you fair, good Signior. ilf. F. i. 3. 

The heavens rain odours on you. T. N. iii. 1. 

Hail to thee, lady ! and the grace of heaven, 

Before, behind thee, and on every hand, 

Envrheel thee round. 0. ii. 1. 

• Clerical. 

Jove bless thee, master parson. T.N, iv. 2. 

• Military. 

Most military Sir, salutation. X. i. v. i. 


She speaks poignards, and every word stabs ; if her 
breath were as terrible as her terminations, there were no 
living near her, she would infect the north star. 

M,A, ii. 1. 


They surfeited with honey, and began 

To loathe the taste of sweetness, whereof little 

More than a little is by much too much. H.. IV. ft. i. iii. 2, 

AVho rises from a feast 
With that keen appetite that he sits down ? 
Where is the horse that doth untread again 
Ilis tedious measures with th' unabated fire 
That he did pace them first? All things that are, 
Are with more spirit chased than enjoyed. M.V. ii. 6. 

O, ten times faster Venus' pigeons fly. 
To seal love's bonds new made, than they are wont, 
To keep obliged faith unforfeited. M.V. ii. 6. 

The food that to him now is as luscious as locusts, shall 
be to him shortly as bitter as coloquintida. 0. i.3. 


Satire, keen and critical. 3L N. v. I. 

Wit larded with malice. T.C. v. 1 

SAT . Ilmltwpariitn Sirtinnatii* . sco 

SATIRE, — continued. 

I must have liberty 
Withal, as large a charter as the wind. 
To blow on whom I please ; for so fools have ; 
And they that are most galled Avith my folly, 
They most must laugh : And why, sir, must they so ? 
The why is plain as way to parish church ; 
He, that a fool doth very wisely hit. 
Doth very foolishly, although he smart, 
Not to seem senseless of the bob ; if not, 
The wise man^s folly is anatomised 
Ev'n by the squandering glances of the fool. A.T, ii. 7. 


The world^s large tongue, 
Proclaims you for a man replete with mocks; 
Full of comparison and wounding flouts ; 
Which you on all estates will execute, 

That lie within the mercy of your wit. L. L. v. 2. 

A very dull fool ; his only gift is in devising impossible 
slanders ; none but libertines delight in him ; and the com- 
mendation is not in his wit, but in his villainy ; for he both 
pleases men, and angers them, and then they laugh at him, 
and beat him. M. A. ii. 1. 


Eit for the mountains, and the barbarous caves, 

Where manners ne'er were preached. T, N. iv. 1. 


What impossible matter will he make easy next? T. ii. 1. 

I am not so nice 
To change true rules fur odd inventions. T. S. iii. 1. 


Thou art a scholar, speak to it, Horatio. H. i. 1. 

SCHOOLBOY Simplicity. 

The fiat transgression of a schoolboy ; who, being over- 
joyed with finding a bird's nest, shows it to his companion, 
and he steals it. M. A. ii. 1. 


Sir, I praise the Lord for you ; and so may my parishion 
ers; for their sons are well tutored by you, and their daugh- 
ters profit very greatly under you; you are a good member 
• uf the commonwealth. L,L.i\.2. 


Think jou, a little din can daunt mine ears? 
Have I not in my time heard lions roar? 


SCO IlialiBSpHtiiiH Birtiniiani. sla 

SCOLD, — contimied. 

Have I not heard the sea, puff'd up with winds, 

llage like an hungry boar, chafed with sweat ? 

Have I not heard great ordnance in the fiohi, 

And Heaven's artillery thunder in the skies ? 

Have I not in pitched battles heard 

Loud 'larums, neighing steeds, and trumpets' clang ? 

And do you tell me of a woman's tongue, 

Tliat gives not half so great a blow to the ear 

As will a chesnut in a farmer's lire ? T. S. i. 2 


You speak of the people, as if you were a god, 
To punish ; not a man of their infirmity. C. iiL 1. 

You are not worth another word, else I'd call you knave. 

A. W, ii. 3. 
that I were a god, to shoot forth thunder 
Upon these paltry, servile, abject drudges ! 

//. VL PT. IT. IV. 1. 

Scorn at first, makes after love the more. T. G, iii. 1. 

I will not do't: 
Lest I surcease to honour mine own truth, 
And, by my body's action, teach my mind 
A most inherent baseness. C. iii. 2, 


He so near to Hermione hath done Hermione, that, they 
pay, one would speak to her and stand in hope of answer. 

W. T. V. 2. 
Still, methinks, 
There is an air comes from her : what fine chizzel 
Could ever yet cut breath. W. T. v. 3. 


The watery kingdom, whose ambitious head 

Spits in the face of heaven. Jf.F. ii. 6. 

1 Bed of the. 

Methought, I saw a thousand fearful wrecks ; 

A thousand men, that fishes gnaw'd upon ; 

Wedges of gold, great anchors, heaps of pearl, 

Inestimable stones, unvalued jewels, 

All scatterM on the bottom of the sea. 

Some lay in dead men's sculls ; and, in those hole? 

Wliere eyes did once inhabit, there were crept 

(As 'twere in scorn of eyes) reflecting gems, 

That woo'd the slimy bottom of the deep, 

And mock'd the dead-bones that lay scatter'd by. 

E, III, L 4. 

SEA llialvtnjitnriaii Sirtioiurij:. sec 

SEA, Perils of the (Soe also Shipwreck). 
Our hint of woe 
Is common : every day, some sailor's wife, 
The masters of some merchant, and the merchant, 
Have just our theme of woe. T, ii. 1. 


The seasons alter ; hoary-headed frosts 
Fail in the fresh lap of the crimson rose ; 
And on old Ilyems' chin, and icy crown, 
An odorous chaplet of sweet summer buds 
Is, as in mockery, set: The sprinir, tl}e summer, 
The childing autumn, angry winter, change 
Their wonted liveries ; and the mazod world, 
By their increase, now knows not whicli is which. 

M. N. ii. 2. 


Every time 
Serves for the matter that is then born in it. A. C. ii. 2. 


The crow doth sing as sweetly as the lark, 

When neither is attended; and, I think, 

The nightingale, if she should sing by day, 

When every goose is cackiijig, would be tliought 

No better a musician than the wren. 

How many things by season scason'd are, 

To their right praise, and true perfection. M. V. v. I. 


If Caasar hide himself, shall they not whisper, 

Lo, Co3sar is afraid ? J.C. ii. 2. 


Stall this in your bosom. A. W. i. 3. 

Masking the business from the common eye. ilT. iii. I. 

When you have spoken it, 'tis dead, and I am the grave 
of it. A. W. iv. o. 

Give it an understanding, hut no tongue. H. i. 2. 

'Tis in my memory lock'd, 
And 3'Ou yourself shall keep the key of it. II. i. 3. 

Thou wilt not trust the air with secrets. Tit. And. iv. 2. 

Bo thou assur'd, if words be made of breath, 
And breath of life, I have no life to breathe 
Wiiat thou hast said to me. II. iii. 4 

1 know you wise ; but yet no further wise, 
Than Harry Perc-y's wife: constant you are; 

SEC IjjiikrHjinuiiiE Birtinimnf. sed 

SEQREOY,— continued. 

But yet a Avoman : and for secrecy^ 

No lady closer ; for I well believe, 

Thou wilt not utter what thou dost not know ; 

And so far will I trust thee, gentle Kate. 

E. IV. FT. I. ii. 3 
But that I am forbid 
To tell the secrets of my prison-house, 
I could a tale unfold, whose lightest word 
Would harrow up thy soul. M. i. 5. 

This secret is so weighty, 'twill require 

A strong faith to conceal it. H. V. III. ii. 1. 

Two may keep counsel, putting one away. B. J. ii. 4. 

A juggling trick to be secretly open. T.C. v. 2. 


Whole as the marble, founded as the rock ; 
As broad and general as the casing air. M. iii. 4. 

Shut doors after you : Fast bind, fast find ; 
A proverb never stale in thrifty mind. M. V. ii. 5. 

But yet I'll make assurance doubly sure, 
And take a bond of fate. M. iv. 1. 

I look'd he should have sent me two-and-twenty yards of 
satin, as I am a true knight, and he sends me, — security. 

H.IV. PT.u!\.2. 

A rascally, yea-forsooth knave ! to bear a gentleman in 
hand, and then stand upon security ! II. IF. pt. ii. i. 2. 


Here do we make his friends 
Blush, that the world goes well ; who rather had 
Though they themselves did suffer by't, behold 
Dissentious numljers pestering streets, than see 
Our tradesmen singing in their shops, and going 
About their functions friendly. C. iv, 6. 

These things, indeed, you have articulated, 
Pi'OclaimM at market crosses, read in churches ; 
To face the garment of rebellion 
With some flue C(d()ur, tliat may please the eye 
OFUckle changelings, and ]'<oor discontents, 
AVliich gape, and rub tlie ci()ow, at the news 
Of burly- i)urly innovation : 
And m^viiv yet did ijisurrection want 
Such wat(U'-C()lours to impaint liis cause ; 
Nor luoody beggars, starving f(.r a time. 
Of pell-niell havoc and confusion. H. IV. pt. I. T. 1 

■^7 2& 

SED IJjalvBSpMtiaH BirtioEiint. sed 

SEDITION,— continued. 

The spinsters, carders, fullers, weavers, "who, 

Unfit for other life, compelPd by hunger 

And lack of other means, in desperate manner 

Daring the event to th' teeth, are all in uproar, 

And danger serves among them. H. VIIL i. 2, 


Then if he says he loves you ; 
It fits your vrisdom so far to believe it, 
As he, in his particular act and place, 
May give his saying deed ; which is no further, 
Than the main voice of Denmark goes withal. 
Then weigh what loss your honour may sustain, 
If with too credent ear you list his songs ; 
Or lose your heart ; or your chaste treasure open 
To his unmaster^d importunity. H, i. 3. 

Ay, so you serve us, 
Till we serve you : but when you have our roses, 
You barely leave our thorns to prick ou^'selves, 
And mock us with our bareness. A. W. iv. 2. 

This man hath witch'd the bosom of my child : 
Thou, thou, Lysander, thou hast given her rhymes, 
And interchang'd love tokens with my child ; 
Thou hast by moonlight at her window sung, 
With feigning voice, verses of feigning love ; 
And stol'n th' impression of her phantasy 
With bracelets of thy hair, rings, gawds, conceits, 
Knacks, trifles, nosegays, sweetmeats ; messengers 
Of strong prevailment in unhardenM youth : 
AVith cunning hast thou filchM my daughter's heart, 
Turn'd her obedience, which is due to me, 
To stubborn harshness. M. K. i. 1. 

cunning enemy, that to catch a saint, 
With saints doth bait thy hook ! M. M. ii. 2. 

Many a maid hath been seduced by them ; and the 
misery is, example, that so terri])ly shows in the wieck of 
maidenhood, cannot for all that dissuade succession, but that 
they are lim'd with the twigs that threaten them. 

A. W. iii. 5. 
Devils soonest tempt, resembling spirits of light. 

L. L. iv. 3. 
"Beguiles him, as the mournful crocodile 
With sorrow snares relenting passengers ; 
Or as the snake, roilM in a flowering l)ank, 
With sh"ifiing checker'd slough, doth sting a child, 
That, for the beauty, thinks it excellent. //. VI. pt. ii. Iii. L 


SEE IIiakEBjimian BitiinHari}* sen 


I have a good eye, uncle : I can see a church by day-light. 

M. A. ii. i. 


Out on thy seeming ! I will write against it : 
• You seem to me as Dian in her orb ; 
As chaste as is the bud ere it be blown ; 
But you are more intemperate in your blood 
Than Venus, or those pamper'd animals 
That rage in savage sensuality. M. A. iv. 1. 


The best persuaded of himself, so crammed, as he thinks, 
with excellencies, that it is his ground of faith, that all, that 
look on him, love him. T.N. ii. 3. 

Look, how imagination blows him. T. N. ii. 5. 


The greatest virtue of which wise men boast, 

Is to abstain from ill, when pleasing most. Poems. 


Virtue? a fig 1 'Tis in ourselves that we are thus, or thus. 
Our bodies are our gardens, to the which our wills are gar- 
deners: so that if we will plant nettles, or sow lettuce ; set 
hyssop, and weed up thyme ; supply it with one gender of 
herbs, or distract it with many ; either to have it steril 
with idleness, or manured with industry ; why, the power 
and corrigible authority of this lies in our own wills. 

0. i. 3. 


Torches are made to burn ; jewels to wear ; 

Things growing to themselves are growth's abuse. Poems, 


Self-love is not so vile a sin 
As self-neglecting. jET. F. ii. 4. 

villanous ! I have lived upon the world four times seven 
years ; and since I could distinguish between a benefit and 
an injury, I never found a man that knew not how to love 
himself. 0. i. 3. 


These old fellows 
Have their ingratitude in them hereditary : 
Their blood is caVd, tis cold, it seldom flows ; 
/Tis lack of kindly warmth, they are not kind ; 
And nature, as it grows again towards earth, 
Is fashioned for the journey, dull, and heavy. T. A, ii. 2. 

SEN IjiakB^pEtinH Sittiniiant. sha 


By my faith be is very swift and sententious. A.Y, v. 4. 


The sacred storehouse of his predecessors, 

And guardian of their bones. M. ii. 4, 

SER V' AN T, Un profit a bl e. 

The patch is kind enough, but a huge feeder, 

Soail-slow in profit. Jf. F. ii. 5. 


! never will I trust to speeches penn'd, 
Nor to the motion of a school-boy's tongue ; 

Nor never come in visor to my friend ; 

Nor woo in rhyme, like a blind harper's song; 
TafFata phrases, silken terms precise, 

Three-pird hyperboles, spruce affectation, 
Figures pedantical ; these summer flies 

Have blown me full of maggot ostentation : 

1 do forswear them. X. L. v. 2. 


Tear-faiiing pity dwells not in this eye. E. III. iv. 2. 


Heaven stops the nose at it, and the moon winks ; 

The bawdy wind, that kisses all it meets. 

Is hush'd within the hollow mine of earth. 

And will not hear it. 0. iv. 2. 

Shame enough to shame thee, wert thou not shameless. 

II. VI. FT. III. i. 4. 
A sovereign shame so elbows him. K. L. iv. 3. 

shame ! w4iere is thy blush ? U. iii. 4. 

The shame itself doth speak for instant remedy. K. L, i. 4. 
lie is unqualitied with very shame. A. C, iii. 9. 

Heaven's face doth glow ; 
Yea, this solidity and compound mass, 
With tristful visage, as against the doom, 
Is thought-sick at the act. H. iii. 4. 

He was not born to shame ; 
Upon his brow shame is asham'd to sit ; 
For His a throne where honour may be crownM 
Sole monarch of the universal earth. i?. /. iii. 2, 

Fie, fie, they are 
Not to be nam'd, my h)rd, not to be spoke of; 
There is not chastity enough in language. 
Without offence to utter them. M, A.iy. 1 

SHE IjiKliBspiiriiiii Sirtinnnnf, siii 

SHEPHERD'S Philosophy. 

I know, the more one sickens, the worse at ease he is ; 
and that he that wants money, means, and content, is with- 
out three good friends: — That the property of rain is to 
wet, and tire to burn : That good pasture makes fat sheep ; 
and that a great cause of the night, is lack of the sun : 
That he, that hath learned no wit by nature, nor art, may 
complain of good breeding, or comes of a very dull kind- 
red. A.Y.m.2, 

SHERIFF'S Officer. 

One, whose hard heart is button'd up with steel ; 

A hend, a fairy, pitiless and rough ; 

A wolf, nay worse, a fellow all in buff; 

A back-friend, a shoulder-clapper, one that countermands 

The passages of alleys, creeks, and narrow hinds ; 

A hound that runs counter, and yet draws dry-foot well ; 

One that, before judgment, carries poor souls to hell. 

a E. iv. 2. 

SHIPWRECKS (See also Sea). 

The king's son, Ferdinand, 
With hair up-staring, (tiien like reeds, not hair,) 
Was tlie first man that loap'd ; cried, i/eZ^ is ejnpiy. 
And all the devlh are here. T.i, 2 

Not a soul 
But felt a fever of the mad, and play'(J 
Some tricks of desperation. T, i. 2 

In few, they hurried us aboard the bark; 
Bore us some leagues to sea ; where they prepar'd 
X rotten carcase of a boat, not rigg'd, 
Nor tackle, sail, nor mast ; the very rats 
Instinctively had rpiit it : there they hoist us, 
To cry to the sea that roar'd to us ; to sigh 
^Fo the winds, whose pity, sighing back again, 
Bid us but loving wrong. T, i. 2. 

To comfort you with chance, 
Assure yourself, after our ship did split, 
When you, and that poor number sav'd with you, 
iiimg on our driving boat I saw your brother, * 
TUoj^t provident in peril, Ijind himself 
(Houi-Mgo and hope both teaching him tlie practice) 
To a strong mast, that livM upon tlie sea. 
Where, like Arion on the dolphin's back, 
I saw him hokl acquaintance with the waves, 
So long as I could see. T, N. i. 2. 

And not one vessel 'scape the dreadful touch 
Of jnerohant-marring rocks. M, V. iii. 2* 

3ii 29* 


Yet the incessant weepings of my wiit., 

Weeping before fo^ Tvhat she knew must g(hmm 

And piteous piaining of the pretty babes, 

Tliat mouru'd for fashion, ignorant what to fear, 

Foi'c'd me to seek delays for them and me. C. E. i. \. 

» Described by a Clown. 

I would, jou did but see how it chafes, how it rages, liow 
it takes up the shore! but that's not to the point: 0, the 
most piteous cry of the poor souls ! sometimes to see 'em 
and not to see ^em : now the ship boring the moon with her 
main-mast; and anon swallowed with yeast and froth, aa 
■vou'd thrust a cork into a hogshead. And then for the 
>*iiid service, — To see how the bear tore out his shoulder- 
irtune; how he cried to me for help, and said his name was 
Antigonus, a nobleman : — But to make an end o' the ship : 
to see how sea flap-ckagon'd it: — but, first, how the poor 
eouls roar'd, and the sea mock'd them : — and how the poor 
gentleman roar'd, and the beai mock'd him, both roaring 
^ouder than the sea, or weather. W. T. iii. 3. 


Zounds ! how has he thi \oisure to be sick 

In such a justling time \ H, IV, ft. i. iv. 1 

SIEGE (See also Cannonade) 

Tell us, shall your cit^ call iis lord, 
In that behalf which wq have challenged it, 
Or shall we give the signal to our rage, 
And stalk in blood to our possession ? K. J. ii. 1. 

Girdled Avith a waist of iron. 
And hemm'd about with grim destruction. H. VI. ft. i. iv. 3. 

These flags of France, that are advanced here, 

Before the eye and prospect of your town, 

Have hither march'd to your endamagement : 

The cannons have their bowels full of wrath ; 

And ready mounted are they to spit forth 

Their iron indignation 'gainst your walls. K. J. ii. 1. 


See you now : 
Your bait of falsehood takes this carp of truth ; 
And thus do we of wisdom and of reach, 
With windlaces, and with assays of bias, 
By indirections lind directions out. JET. ii. i. 


lie rais'd a sigh, so piteous and profound, 


sio IjialtBspariiitt Dirtinnanj. sim 

SIGHS, — continued . 

As it did seem to shatter all his bulk, 

And end his being. H. ii. 1. 

Blood-drinking sighs. H. VL pt.1i. iii. 2. 

Blood-sucking sighs. M. VL pt. iii?iv. 4. 

Her sighs will make a battery in his breast ; 

ller tears wiii pierce into a marble heart ; 

The tiger will be mild while she doth mourn ; 

And Nero w^ili be tainted with remorse, 

To hear, and see, her plaints. H. VL pt. hi. iii. 1. 

For beaven shall hear our prayers ; 
Or with our sighs we'll breathe the welkin dim. 
And stain the sun with fog, as sometimes clouds, 
AVheii they do hug him in their melting bosoms. 

TU. And. iii. 1. 
Blood-consuming sighs. IL, VL. pt. ii. iii. 2. 

I could drive the boat with my sighs. T.G. ii. 3. 

lleart-sore sighs. TM. ii. 4. 

Cooling the air with sighs. T, i. 2. 


And in such indexes, although small pricks 

To their subsequent volumes, there is seen 

The baby figure of the giant mass 

Of things to come at large. T.C. i. 3. 


Hear his speech, but say thou nought. M. iv. 1. 

With silence, nephew, be thou politic. LL. VL. pt. i. ii. 5. 

Silence only is commendable 
In a neat's tongue dried, and a maid not vendible. 

if.F. i.l, 
I like your silence, it the more shows off 
Your wonder. * W, T. v. 3 


The silence, often, of pure innocence, 

Persuades, when speaking fails. W, T. ii. 2. 

See, see, your silence, 
Cunning in dumbness, from my weakness draws 
My very soul of counsel. T.C. iii. 2. 

There was speech in their dumbness. W. T. v. 2 


A good swift similie, but something currish. T, S. v. 2. 

Thou hast the most unsavoury similies. LL. LV. pt. i. i. 2 


SIM |liEltE3|rBfiriiiii l)irt{niniri{. sla 


It is siJly sooth. W. T. iv. 3. 

T5y the pattern of mine own thougths, I cut out 
The purity of his. W. T.iv, 3. 

•How green are you, and fresh in this old world ! K. J. iii.4. 


Few love to hear the sins they love to act. P. P. i. 1. 

0, 'tis the cunning livery of hell, 

The damnedest body to invest and cover 

In princely guards. M. M. iii. 1. 


Believe me, I speak as my understanding instructs me, 
and as mine honesty puts it to utterance. W. T. i. 1. 


Smacking of every sin that has a name. M, iv. 3. 


She will sing the satageness out of a bear. 0. iv. 1. 


An he had been a dog that should have howled thus, 
they would have hanged him ; and I pray God his bad 
voice bode no mischief. M. A. ii. 3. 

Tax not so bad a voice 
To slander music any more than once. M. A. ii. 3. 


Methinks you prescribe to yourself very preposterously. 

Jf. W. ii. 2. 

SINNERS, Refined. 

Some of all professions, that go the primrose way to the 
everlasting bonfire. i¥. ii. 3l. 

SLANDER (See also Calumny). 

No might nor greatness in mortality 

Can censure 'scape ; back-wounding calumny 

The whitest virtue strikes. M. M. iii. 2. 

For haply, slander. 
Whose whisper o'er the earth's'diameter, 
As level as the cannon to his blank, 
Transports his poison'd shot, may miss our name, 
And hit the woundless air, H. iv. 1. 

One doth not know, 
IIow much an ill word may empoison liking. M.A, iii. 1 
I see, the jewel, best enamelled, 
Will lose his beauty : and though gold 'bides still, 


sLzV IjiakfBpiiriiiu I!irtiniinn(. sla 

SLANDER,— con/m?^e(i 

That others touch, yet often touching will 

Wear gold : and no man, that hath a name, 

But falsehood and corruption doth it shame, C. E. ii. 1 . 

^Tis slander ; 
Whose edge is sharper than the sword ; whose tongue 
Out-venoms all the worms of Nile ; whose breath 
Hides on the posting wind, and doth belie 
Ail corners of the world ; kings, queens, and states, 
Maids, matrons, nay, the secrets of the grave 
This viperous slander enters. Cijm. iii. 4. 

Many worthy and chaste dames even thus (all guiltless) 
meet reproach. 0. iv. i. 

Calumny will sear virtue itself. ^Y.T. ii. 1. 

I will be hang'd, if seme eternal villain. 
Some busy and insinuating rogue. 
Some cogging cozening slave, to get some office, 
Have not devis'd this slander. 0. iv.2. 

For he 
The sacred honour of himself, his queen's. 
His hopeful son's, his babe's, betrays to slander, 
Whose sting is sharper than the sword's. W.T. ii. 3. 

Abus'd by some most villanous knave ! 
Some base notorious knave, some scurvy fellow : 
0, heaven, that such companions thoud'st unfold ; 
And put in every honest hand a whip 

To lash the rascal naked through the world ! 0. iv. 2. 

So thou be good, slander doth but approve. Poems, 

If thou dost slander her, and torture me. 
Never pray more : abandon all remorse ; 
On horror's head horrors accumulate : 
Do deeds to make heaven weep, all earth amaz'd, 
For nothing canst thou to damnation add, , 
Greater than that. 0. iii. 3. 

A slave, whose gall coins slanders like a mint. T.C. i. E. 


That dare as well answer a man, indeed, 
As 1 dare take a serpent by the tongue : 
Bo^^s, apes, braggarts, jacks, milksops ? M.A. v. I. 

Smiling pickthanks and base newsmongers. 

H.IV. PT. I. iii. 2. 

SLAVE AT Large. 

I am trusted with a muzzle, and enfranchised with a clog. 

M. A, i. 3. 


SLA |lialtBH|iMri{iii BiiHonnrii. sle 


Milk-llver'd man ! 
That bear'st a cheek for blows, a head for wrongs, 
Who hast not in thy brows an eye discerning 
Thine honour from thy suffering ; that not khow'st 
Fools do those villains pity, who are punish'd 
Ere they have done their mischief. K. L. Iv. 2. 

How this lord's followM ! T,A, i. 1. 

AV^ith plumed helm thy slayer begins threats ; 
Whilst thou, a moral fool, sit'st still, and cry'st. 
Alack ! Why does he so f ' K. L, iv. 2. 

0, behold, 
How pomp is followed. A. C. v. 2. 

Seeking sweet savours for this hateful fool. M. N. iv. 1. 

To flatter Caesar, would you mingle eyes 
With one that ties his points ? A. C. iii. 2. 

To say ay, and no, to every thing I said ! Ay and no too, 
was no good divinity. K. L. iv. 6 


The innocent sleep : 
Sleep, that knits up the ravell'd sleave of care, 
The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath, 
Balm of hurt minds, great Nature's second course, 
Chief nourisher in life's feast. M. ii. 2 

Please you, Sir, 
Do not omit the heavy offer of it : 
It seldom visits sorrow ; when it doth, 
It is a comforter. T, ii. 1 

Can snore upon the flint, when restive sloth 
Finds the down^jillow hard. Cym. iii. 6 

How many thousands of my poorest subjects 
Are at this hour asleep I O sleep, gentle sleep, 
Nature's soft nurse, how have I frighted thee. 
That thou no more wilt weigh mine eye-lids down, 
And steep my senses in forgetfulness ? 
Why rather, sleep, liest thou in smoky cribs. 
Upon uneasy pallets stretching thee, 
And hush'd with buzzing night-flies, to thy slumber ; 
Than in the perfum'd chambers of the great, 
TTnder the canopies of costly state, 
And luU'd with sounds of sweetest melody ? 
thou dull god, why liest thou with the vile, 
In loathsome beds ; and leav'st the kingly coucl: 
A watch-case, or a common 'larum bell ? 

SLE IjjnltfHpurinn Birtinnartf. sme 

SLEEP, — continued. 

Wilt thou, upon the high and giddy mast, 

Seal up the ship-boy's eyes, and rock his brains, 

In cradle of the rude imperious surge ; 

And in tlfb visitation of the winds, 

Who take the ruffian billows by the top. 

Curling their monstrous heads, and hanging them 

W^ith deafening clamours in the slippery clouds, 

That, with the hurly, death itself awakes ? 

Canst thou, partial sleep ! give thy repose 

To the wet sea-boy, in an hour so rude : 

And, in the calmest, and most stillest night, 

With all appliances and means to boot^ 

Deny it to a king ? Then, happy low, lie down ! 

Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown. 

H. IV, FT. II. iii. 1. 
The deep of night is crept upon our talk. 
And Nature must obey necessit}^. J.C. iv.Z. 

Till o'er their brows death-counterfeiting sleep 
With leaden legs and batty wings doth creep. M. iV. iii. 2, 
Care keeps his watch in every old man's eye. 
And where care lodges, sleep will never lie. B. J. ii. 3. 

To bed, to bed : Sleep kill ^jose pretty eyes. 
And give as soft attachment to thy senses, 
As infants empty of all thought. T. C. iv. 2. 

Fast asleep ? It is no matter ; 
Enjoy the honey-heavy dew of slumber ; 
Thou hast no figures, nor no fantasies. 
Which busy care draws in the brains of men ; 
Therefore thou sleep'st so sound. J.C, ii. 1, 

Sleep, that sometimes shuts up sorrow's eye, 
Steal me awhile from mine own company. - M. iV. iii. 2. 
So sorrow's heaviness doth heavier grow, 
For debt that bankrupt sleep doth sorrow owe. M. J^. iii. 2. 
sleep, thou ape of death, lie dull upon her. C^7n, ii. 2. 


What pleasure, Sir, find we in life, to lock it from action 
and adventure ? Cym. iv. 4. 

Sleeping neglection doth betray to loss. H. IV, pt. i. iv. 3. 


What have we here ? a man or a fish ? Dead or alive ? 
A fish : he smells like a fish ; a very antient and fish-like 
smell. T, ii. 2. 

Master Brook, there was the rankest compound of vil- 
lanous smells, that ever offended nostril. M. W. iii. 5. 


SMI |liako]itariiiii Sitiinuiirij. sol 


When time shall serve, there shall be smiles. H.V. ii. 1. 

Some, that smile, have in their hearts, I fear, 

Millions of mischief. /. C. iv. 1. 

AND Tears. 

Patience and sorrow strove 
"Who should express her goodliest. Yon have seen 
Sunshine and rain at once : her smiles and tears 
Were like a better day: Those happy smiles, 
That playM on her ripe lip, seem'd not to know 
What guests were in her eyes ; which parted thoiice. 
As pearls from diamonds dropp'd. In brief, sorrow 
Would be a rarity most belovM, if all 
Could so become it. K. L. iv. 3. 


I am pepperM, I warrant, for this world. B. J. in. 1. 


Smooth as monumental alabaster. 0. v. 2. 


Though he comes slowly, he carries his house on his 
head, and brings his destiny with hini, his horns ; he cornea 
armed in his fortune, and prevents the slander of his wife. 



Thou dost snore distinctly ; 
There's meaning in thy snores. T. ii. 1. 


Society is no comfort 
To one not sociable. Cf/m. iv. 2. 


A try'd and valiant soldier. /. C. iv. 1. 

Soldiers should brook as little wrongs, as gods. T. A. iii. 5. 

Consider this : He hath been ])red i' the wars 

Since he could draw a sword, and is ill-sclioord 

In boulted language ; meal and bran together 

He throws without distinction. C, iil. 3. 

He that is truly dedicate to war, hath no self-love. 

JI. VL PT. II. V. 2. 
Consider further, 
That when he speaks not like a citizen, 
You find him like a soldier : Do not take 
His rougher accents for malicious sounds, 
But, as I say, such as become a soldier. C. iii. 3. 

SOL Ijiakrspaxiait Dittinimni. sol 

SOLDIER, — contifiued. 

The armipotent soldier. A. W. iv. 3 

'Tis the soldiers' life 
To have their balmy slumbers wak'd with strife. O. ii. 3 

'Tis much he dares ; 
And, to the dauntless temper of his mind, 
He hath a wisdom that doth guide his valour 
To act in safety. M. iii. 1. 

A braver soldier never couched lance, 

A gentler heart did never sway in court. H. VI. pt. i. iii. 2. 

I am a soldier ; and unapt to weep, 

Or to exclaim on fortune's fickleness. II. VI. pt. i. v. 3. 

Fye, my lord, fye ! a soldier and afraid ? M. v. 1. 

Trailest thou the puissant pike ? H,V, iv. 1. 

Go to the wars, would you? where a man may serve seven 
years f(»r the loss of a leg, and have not money enough at 
the end to buy him a wooden one ? P. P. iv. C. 

Faith, Sir, he has led the drum before the English trage- 
dians, — to belie him I Avill not, — and more of his soldiership 
I know not ; except, in that country, he had the honour to 
be the officer at a place there called Mile End, to instruct 
for the doubling of files : I would do the man what honour 
I can, but of this I am not certain. A. TV. iv. 3. 

All furnished, all in arms, 
All plum'd like estridges that wing the wind ; 
Bated like eagles having lately bathM ; ' 

Glittering in golden coats, like images ; 
As full of spirit as the month of May, 
And gorgeous as the sun at midsummer ; 
Wanton as youthful goats, wild as young bulls. 

H. IV, PT. I. iv. 1. 

Tut, tut ; good enough to toss ; food for powder, food for 
powder ; they^ll find a pit as well as better. 

H. IV PT. I. iv. 2. 

». IX Love. 

I look'd upon her with a soldier's eye. 

That likM, but had a rougher task in hand 

Than to drive liking to the name of love : 

But now I am returned, and that war-thoughts 

Have left their places vacant, in their rooms 

Come thronging soft and delicate desires. M. A.i. I, 

May that soldier a mere recreant prove. 
That means not, hath not, or is not in love T. C, i. 3. 

3ti> 30 

SOL lljnltrHpiirinii Dirtinnan^ sol 

SOLDIEIi'S Death. 

Your son, my lord, has paid a soldier's debt : 

He only liv^d but till he was a man ; 

The which no sooner had his prowess confirm^, 

In the unshrinking station where he fought, 

But like a man he died. M, v. 7. 

They say he parted well, and paid his score ; 

So God be with him, " 31. v. 7 

I pray you, bear me hence 
From forth the noise and rumour of the field ; 
Where I may think the remnant of my thoughts 
In peace, and part this body and my soul 
With contemplation and devout desires. K. J, v. 5 

So underneath the belly of their steeds, 

That stainM their fetlocks in his smoking blood, 

The noble gentleman gave up the ghost. H. VI. pt. hi. ii. 3. 

Why then, God's soldier be he 1 
Had I as many sons as I have hairs, 
I would not wish them to a fairer death : 
And so his knell is knollM. M. v. 7. 


To be tender-minded 
Does not become a sword : — Thy great employment 
W^ill not bear question. K. L. y.o. 

It fits thee not to ask the reason why, 
Because we bid it. F. P. i. 1. 

— Unpractised. 

That never set a squadron in the field, 

Nor the division of a battle knows 

More than a spinster. 0. i. 1 

Mere prattle without pactice, 
Is all his soldiership. 0. i. 1 


Frame yourself 
To orderly solicits ; and be friended 
With aptness of the season. Cijm. ii. 3, 


How use doth breed a habit in a man ! 

This shadowy desert, unfrequented woods, 

I better brook than flourishing peopled towns : 

Here can I sit alone, unseen of any. 

And, to the nightingale's complaining notes, 

Tune my distresses^ and record my woes. T. G, v. 4. 

soM |liakE3|itiiriii!i Sirtinimrtf. son 


A great perturbation in nature, to receive at once the 
"benelit of sleep, and to do the effects of watching, if. v. 1, 


I can suck melancholy out of a eong, as a weasel suclcs 
eggs: More, I pr'ythee, more. A.Y. ii. 5. 

My mother had a maid calPd Barbara ; 

She was in love ; and ho slie lov'd provM mad, 

And did forsake her : she had a song of Willow, 

An old thing ^twas, but it expressed her fortune, 

And she died singing it. • 0. iv. 3. 

She bids you 
Upon the wanton rushes lay you down, 
And rest your gentle head upon her lap, 
And she will sing the song that pleaseth you, 
A.nd on your eye-lids crown the god of sleep. 
Charming your blood with pleasing heaviness. 
Making such difference 'twixt wake and sleep, 
As is the difference betwixt day and night, 
The hour before the heavenly-harnessed team 
Begins his golden progress in the east. H. IV. pt. i. iii. 1. 

^Fore heaven, an excellent song. 0. ii. 3. 

Why, this is a more exquisite song than the other. 0. ii. 3. 

Now, good Cesario, but that piece of song, 

That old and antique song we heard last night ; 

Methought it did relieve my passion much ; 

More than light airs and recollected terms. 

Of these most brisk and giddy-paced times. T, N. ii. 4, 

It hath been sung at festivals, 

On ember eves and holy ales ; 

And lords and ladies of their lives 

Have read it for restoratives. P. P. i. chorus, 

Mark it, Cesario ; it is old, and plain ; 

The spinsters, and the knitters in the sun, 

And the free maids that weave their thread with bones, 

Do use to chant it ; it is silly sooth. 

And dallies with the innocence of love, 

Like the old age. T. N, ii. 4. 

SONG, Popular. 

No hearing, no feeling, but my Sir^s song ; and admiring 
the nothing of it. W. T, iv. 3. 

There's scarce a maid westward but she sings it : His in 
request, I can tell you. TT. T, iv. 3. 


SON llfttkispiiriitii SittinnBrif. sor 


I had rather than forty shillings, I had my book of songg 
and sonnets here. M. V, i. 1. 

SONGSTERS, Nocturnal. 

Shall we rouse the night owl in a catch ? T. N. ii. 3, 

SORROW (See Grief, Lamentation, Tears). 
Sorrow breaks seasons, and reposing hours, 
Makes the night morning, and the noon-tide night. 

Go, count thy way with sighs ; — I mine with groans. 

B. II. V. 1 
When sorrows come, they come, not single spies. 
But in battalions. H. iv. 5. 

One son-ow never comes, but brings an heir, 

That may succeed as his inheritor. P. P. i. 4. 

'Tis one of those odd tricks which sorrow shoots 

Out of the mind. A, C. iv. 2. 

A cypress, not a bosom, 
Hides my poor heart. T, N, iii. 1, 

0, if you teach me to believe this sorrow. 
Teach thou this sorrow how to make me die. 
And let belief and life encounter so, 
As doth the fury of two desperate men, 
Which, in their very meeting, fall, and die. K.J. iii. 1. 

How ill all's here about my heart I If. v. 2. 

I will instruct my sorrows to be proud ; 

For grief is proud, and makes his owner stout. 

To me, and to the state of my great grief, 

Let kings assemble ; for my grief ^s so great. 

That no supporter but the huge firm earth 

Can hold it up ; here I and sorrow sit ; 

Here is my throne, bid kings come bow to it. K, /. iii. 1. 

Cure her of that : 
Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased ; 
Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow ; 
Raze out the written troubles of the brain ; 
And with some sweet oblivious antidote, 
Cleanse the foul bosom of that perilous stuff, 
Which weighs upon the heart? M. v. 3. 

Impatience waiteth on true sorrow. H, TL PT. iii. iii. 3. 

For gnarled sorrow hath less power to bite 
The man that mocks at it, and sets it light. P. IL i. 3, 

Sorrow ends not when it seemoth done. R. II. i. 2 

soR |liiiIviH|i!ttriiiE Sirtinnnrif. sou 

BOTxUO^y,— continued. 

All strange and terrible events are welcome, 

But comforts we despise ; our size of sorrrow, 

Proportioned to our cause must be as great, 

As that which makes it. A. C. iv. 13. 

Weep I cannot, 
But my heart bleeds. W. T. iii. 3. 

This she delivered in the most bitter touch of sorrow, that 
eV.r 1 heard virgin exclaim in. A. W.'i.Z. 

Down, thou climbing sorrow, thy element's below. 

K. L. ii. 4. 
But sorrow, that is couch'd in seeming gladness. 
Is like that mirth fate turns to sudden sadness. T.C. i. 1. 

This sorrow's heavenly, 
It strikes where it doth love. 0. v. 2. 

And now and then an ample tear trill'd down 
Her delicate cheek ; it seenVd, she was a queen 
Over her passion ; who, most rebel-like, 
Sought to be king o'er her. K, L. iv. 3. 

Her nature became as a prey to her grief; in fine, made 
a groan of her last breath, and now she sings in heaven. 


' Parental. 

My grief 
Stretches itself beyond the hour of death; 
The blood weeps from my heart, when I do shape, 
In forms imaginary, the unguided days, 
. And rotten times that you shall look upon 

When I am sleeping with my ancestors. H. IV. pt. ii. iv. 5. 


One, whose subdu'd eyes, 
Albeit unused to the melting mood, 
Drop tears as fast as the Arabian trees, 
Their medicinal gum. 0. v. 2 

■ Mocked. 

These miseries are more than may be borne ! 

To weep with them that weep doth ease some deal, 

But sorrow flouted at his double death. Tit* And. iii. 1. 

Uncalled for. 

The tears live in an onion that should water this sorrow. 

A. C. i. 2. 


Though that be sick it dies not. H. IV, pt. ii. ii. 2. 

353 . 30* 

sou lljaktHparian Bittinnanr. spi 

SOUL, — continued. 

Every subject's duty is the kind's, but every subject's 
soul is liis own. II. V. iv. 1. 

Mount, mount, my soul, thy seat is up on high. R. II. v. 5. 
Were souls do couch on flowers, we'll hand in hand, 
And with our sprightly sport, make the ghosts gaze. 

Since thou hast far to go, bear not along 
The clogging burden of a guilty soul. E. II. i. 3. 

Swift-winsr'd souls. B. Ill, ii. 3. 

SOUE Looks. 

IIow tartly that gentleman looks ! I never can i/ee him 
but I am heart-burned an hour after. M. A. ii. 1. 

SPARE Figure. 

He was the very genius of famine. H. IV, pt. ii. iii. 4. 

You might have truss'd him, and all his apparel, into an 
■ eel-skin ; the case of a treble hautboy was a mansion for 
him, a court ; and now has he land and bees. 

H. IV. PT. II. iii. 2. 

SPEECH (See also Recitation). 

Before we proceed any further, hear me speak. C. i. 1. 

His speech sticks in my heart. A. C. i. 5. 

I would be loath to cast away my speech ; f(:»r, besides 
that it is excellently well penn'd, I have taken great pains 
to con it. T. K i. 5. 

'Tis well said again ; 
And 'tis a kind of good deed, to say well; 
And yet words are no deeds. H. VIII. iri. 2. 

Spoke like a spriteful noble gentleman. K. J. iv. 2. 

' Disordered. 

And when he speaks 
'Tis like a chime a mending ; with terms unsquar'd. 
Which, from the tongue of roaring Typhon dropt. 
Would seem hyperboles. T.C. i. 3 


0, I am scalded with my violent motion 

And spleen of speed to see your majesty. K. J", v. 7. 

Bloody with spurring ; fiery red with haste. B. II. ii. 3. 

SPIRITS (See also Apparitions, Ghosts, Elves, Fairies). 

Why, now I see there's mettle in thee ; and even; from 
this instant, do build on thee a better opinion than ever 
before. 0. iv. 2. 


spi IlialvBHpariait l]irtintiEtt[. spo 

SPIRITS, — continued. 

Forth at your eyes, your spirits wildly peep. H. iii. 4. 

That gallant spirit hath aspir'd the clouds. B. J. iii. 1. 

The spirit of the time shall teach me speed. K. J. iii. 4. 

' ■ Inferxal. 

Black spirits and white, 
Ked spirits and grey ; 
Mingle, mingle, mingle. 
You that mingle may. M. iv. 1. 

Now, ye familiar spirits, that are culFd 
Out of the powerful regions under earth, 
Help me this once. ILVL pt. i. v. 8. 

GJciidower. — I can call spirits from the vasty deep. 
HoU])nr. — Why, so can I ; or so can any man : 
But will they come when you do call for them ? 

11. IV. PT. I. iii. 1. 
Show his eyes, and grieve his heart ; 

Come like shadows, so depart. M. iv. 1. 

Infected be the air whereon they ride, 
And damnM all those that trust them. 31. iv. 1. 


Pardon, master : 
I will be correspondent to command, 
And do my spiriting gently. T. i. 2. 


'Sfoot, I'll learn to conjure and raise devils, but 1^11 see 
some issue of my spiteful execrations. T.C. ii. 3. 


Out, you mad-headed ape ! 
A weasel hath not such a deal of spleen 
As you are toss'd with. //. IV. ft. i. ii. 3. 

With the spleen of all the under fiends. C. iv. 1. 


As gorgeous as the sun at midsummer. H. IV. pt. i. iv. 1, 

It stuck upon him, as the sun 
In the grey vault of heaven. H. IV, pt. ii. ii. 3. 


Sport royrJ, I warrant you. T. N. ii. 3. 

Nay, I'll come ; if T lose a s(5ruple of this sport, let me 
be boiled to death with melancholy. T.N. ii. 5. 

Very reverend sport, truly ; and done in the testimony of 
a good conscience. L. L. iv. 2. 


spo |liiikc0|ititriii!i B{ttiniiEn{. spr 

SVOUT,— continued. 

That sport best pleases, that doth least know how : 
Where zeal strives to content, and the contents 
Pie in the zeal of them which it presents, 
Their form confounded makes most form in mirth ; 
When great things labouring perish in their birth. 

i. L, V. 2. 
It is admirable pleasures and fery honest knaveries. 

There's no such sport, as sport by sport overthrown ; 
To make theirs ours, and ours none but. our own : 
So shall we stay, mocking intended game, 
And they, well mock'd, depart away with shame. 

L. L. V. 2. 

I'll make one in a dance, or so ; or I will play on the tabor 

to the worthies, and let them dance the hay. i. L. v. 1. 

• Ladies. 

Thus men may grow wiser every day ! it is the first time 
that ever I heard, breaking of ribs was sport for ladies. 

A.r. 12. 

SPOT (See also Blot, Stain). 

With a spot I damn him. J. C iv 1. 


When daisies pied, and violets blue, 
And lady-smocks all silver-white. 
And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue. 
Do paint the meadows with delight, 
The cuckoo then, on every tree, 
Mocks married men, for thus sings he. 
Cuckoo, cuckoo, cuckoo. word of fear, 
Unpleasing to a married ear ! 
When shepherds pipe on oaten straws. 

And merry larks are ploughmen's clocks. 
When turtles tread, and rooks, and daws. 
And maidens bleach their summer smocks. 

The cuckoo then, &c. L. L, v. 2, 

When well-apparell'd April on the heel 
Of limping winter treads. 7?. /. i. 2. 

SPRING Flowers. 

For the flowers now, that, frigl^ted, thou let'st fall 
From Dis's waggon ! daffodils 
That come before the swallow dares, and take 
The winds of March with beauty ; violets, dim, 
But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes, 


spR llmktspfarian Sittinnitrii. str 

SPRING, — continued. 

Or Cytherea^s breath ; pale primroses, 

That die unmarried, ere they can behold 

Bright Phoebus in his strength, a malady 

Most incident to maids ; bold oxlips, and 

The crown imperial ; lilies of all kinds, 

The flower-de-luce being one. W. T. iv. 3. 

STAIN (See also Blot, Spot). 

Out, damned spot: out, I say. M. v. 1. 

All the perfumes of Arabia will not sweaten this little hand. 

M. V. 1. 
It doth confirm 
Another stain, as big as hell can hold. Cym, ii. 4. 

The more fair and crystal is the sky, 
The uglier seem the clouds that in it fly. B, ZZ". i. 1. 


I shall stalk about her door. 
Like a strange soul upon the Stygian banks, 
Staying for waftage. T. C, iii. 2. 


Now he'll outstare the lightning. A,C, iii. II. 

STARS (See also Planetary Influence). 

The stars above us govern our condition. K. L. iv. 3. 

Diana's waiting women. T, (7. v. 2. 


Convey, the wise it call : Steal ! foh ; a fico for the phrase. 

M. W. i. 3. 


Therefore, to horse ; 
And let us not be dainty of leave-taking. 
But siiift away : There's warrant in that theft, 
Which steals itself, when there's no mercy left. M, ii. 3. 

STRANGE Occurrence. 

If this were played upon a stage now, I could condemn it 
as an improbable fiction. T. JSf, iii. 4. 


Saint Dennis bless this happy stratagem. 

H. YL PT. I. iii. 2. 


0, it is excellent 
To have a giant's strength ; but it is tyrannous 
To use it like a giant. M. M, ii. 2. 


STR |{;i?kf5piiriiiii SiriinDiin[. sub 

STRIPLINGS, Military. ^ 

Worthy fellows ; and like to prove most sinewy swordsmen. 



This cuflf was but to knock at your ear, and beseech 
listening. T. S, iv. 1. 

STUDY (See also Light). 

Study is like the heaven's glorious sun, 

That will not be deep searched with saucy looks ; 
Small have continual plodders ever won, 

Save base authority, from others' books. L. L, i. 1. 

Why, universal plodding prisons up 

The nimble spirits in the arteries ; 

As motion, and long-during action, tires 

The sinewy vigour of the traveller. X. X. iv. 3. 

So study evermore is overshot ; 

While it doth study to have what it would, 

It doth forget to do the thing it should : 

And when it hath the thing it hunteth most, 

'Tis won, as towns with fire ; so won, so lost. L.L. i. 1. 

Biron. — What is the end of study ? 

King. — Why, that to know, which else we should not 

Blron. — Things hid and barr'd, you mean, from common 

King. — Ay, that is study's god-like recompense. 

L.L. i. 1. 


I have drugg'd their possets 
That death and nature do contend about them 
Whether they live or die. M. ii. 2. 

How runs the stream ? 
Or I am mad, or else this is a dream. T. ISf. iv. 1. 


Why, 'tis a boisterous and cruel style, 

A style for challengers. A.Y. iv. 3. 


Condition ! 
What good condition can a treaty find 
r the part that is at mercy ? C. i. 10. 

Why this it is, when men are rul'd by women. R. IIL i. I. 


SUB Ijiakrspnrtait Birtinimni. sui 


You shall be as a father to my youth ; 

My voice shall sound as you do prompt mine ear ; 

And I will stoop and humble my intents 

To your well-practis'd, wise directions. H. IV, pt. ii. v. 2. 

My other self, my counseFs consistory, 

My oracle, my prophet I — My dear cousin, 

I, as a child, will go by thy direction's. R.IIL ii 2. 

TO THE Laws. 

If the deed were ill, 
Be you contented, wearing now the garland, 
To have a son set your decrees at nought ; 
To pluck down justice from your awful bench ; 
To trip the course of law, and blunt the sword 
That guards the peace and safety of your person : 
Nay, more ; to spurn at your most royal image, 
And mock your workings in a second body. 
Question your royal thoughts, make the case yours ; 
Be now the father, and propose a son : 
Hear your own dignity so much profanM ; 
See your most dreadful laws so loosely slighted, 
Behold yourself so by a son disdain'd ; 
And then imagine me taking your part, 
And, in your power, soft silencing your son. 

HJV. PT. II. V. 2. 


Of sufferance comes ease. H. IV, pt. ii. v. 4. 


Upon such sacrifices, my Cordelia, 
The gods themselves throw incense. K, L. v. 3. 

Why should hard-favour'd grief be lodged in thee, 
When triumph is become an ale-house guest? B,IL v, 1. 

SUICIDE (See also Conscience). 

Against self-slaughter 
There is a prohibition so divine. 

That cravens my weak hand. Cym, iii. 4. 

To be, or not to be, tliat is the question : — 
Whether His nobler in the mind, to suffer 
The stings and arrows of outrageous fortune ; 
Or, to take arms against a sea of troubles. 
And, by opposing, end them ? To die, — to sleep, — 
No more ; — and, by sleep, to say we end 
The heart-ache, and the thousand natural shocks 
That flesh is heir to, — 'tis a consummation 
Devoutly to be wish'd. To die ;— to sleep ; — 


sui llmkEspEiitiiiir iirtinitiin{. sui 


To sleep ! perchance to dream ; ay, there^s the rub : 

For in that sleep of death what dreams may come, 

When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, 

Must give us pause : there^s the respect, 

That makes calamity of so long life : 

For who would bear the whips and scorns of time, 

The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely, 

The pangs of despis'd love, the law's delay, 

The insolence of office, and the spurns 

That patient merit of the unworthy takes, 

When he himself might his quietus make 

With a bare bodkin ? Who would fardels bear, 

To groan and sweat under aweary life ; 

But that the dread of something after death, — 

That undiscover'd country, from whose bourn 

No traveller returns, — puzzles the will ; 

And makes us rather bear those ills w^e have, 

Than fly to others, that we know not of? 

Thus conscience does make cowards of us all ; 

And thus the native hue of resolution 

xs sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought ; 

And enterprises of great pith and moment, 

With this regard their currents turn awry. 

And lose the name of action. H. iii. 1. 

Even by the rule of that philosophy. 

By which I did blame Cato for the death 

Which he did give himself: — I know not how, 

But I do find it cowardly and vile, 

For fear of what might fall, so to y)revent 

The time of life : — arming myself with patience. 

To stay the providence of some high powers. 

That govern us below. /. C. v. 1 

He is dead : 
Not by a public minister of justice, 
Nor by a hired knife ; but that self hand 
Which writ his honour in the acts it did, 
Hath, with the courage wdiich the heart did lend it, 
Splitted the heart. A. C. v. L 

All's but naught ; 
Patience is sottish ; and impatience does 
Become a dog that's mad : Then is it sin, 
To rush into the secret house of death, 
Ere death dare come to us? A.C- iv. 13. 

The more pity, that great folk should have countenance 
in this world to drown or hang themselves, more than their 
even Christian. J?, v. 1. 

sui IjnikEspatiiin SixtinEiini, sup 

SUICJD'E^,— continued. 

My desolation does begin to make 

A better life : 'Tis paltry to be Caesar ; 

Not being Fortune, he's but Fortune's knave, 

A minister of her will: And it is great 

Q'o do that thing which ends all other deeds ; 

"Which shackles accidents, and bolts up change. A.C. v. 2. 

Nor stony tower, nor walls of beaten brass. 

Nor airless dungeon, nor strong links of iron, 

Can be retentive to the strength of spirit ; 

But life, being weary of these worldly bars, 

Never lacks power to dismiss itself. /. C. i. 3. 

Every bondman in his own hand bears 
The power to cancel his captivity. J.C. i. 3, 

SUN Setting. 

The weary sun hath made a golden set. 

And, by the bright track of his fiery car 

Gives token of a goodly day to-morrow. R. III. v. 3. 

But even this night, — whose black contagious breath 

Already smokes about the burning crest 

Of the old, feeble, and day-wearied sun, — 

Even this night your breathing shall expire. X. /. v. 4. 


To gild refined gold, to paint the lily, 

To throw a perfume on the violet, 

To smooth the ice, or add another hue 

Unto the rainbow, or with* taper-light 

To seek the beauteous eye of heaven to garnish. 

Is wasteful and ridiculous excess. K. J. iv. 2. 


To the snow-white hand of the most beautiful Lady Rosaline. 

"i. X. iv.2. 


Look how the world's poor people are amaz'd 

At apparitions, signs, and prodigies 1 Poems, 

The superstitious idle-headed eld 

Receiv'd, and did deliver to our age. 

This tale of Ilerne the hunter for a truth. M. W. iv. 4. 


A sea of molting pearl, which some call tears: 
Those at her father's churlish feet she tender'd ; • 
With them, upon her knees, her humble self, 
"Wringing her hands, whose whiteness so became them, 
As if but now they waxed pale for woe. T.G. iii. i« 

301 31 

sun |li{ik!H|iHrinii Dittiiiiiari[. swe 


Is not this a lamentable thing, that of the skiu of an 
innocent lamb should be made parchment ? That parch- 
ment being scribbled o^er, should undo a man ? Some say, 
the bee stings : but I say, His the bee's wax : for I did but 
seal once to a thing, and I was never mine own man since. 

H, VL FT. II. iv. 2. 


A surfeit of the sweetest things, 
The deepest loathing to the stomach brings. M. iV. ii. 3. 


The murmuring surge, 
That on the unnumbered idle pebbles chafes, 
Cannot be heard so high. K. L. iv. 6. 

SURLY Countenance. 

The image of a wicked heinous fault 

Lives in his eye. K. J. iv. 2. 


Suspicion always haunts the guilty mind. 

E. VI. PT. III. V. 6. 
Indeed ! ay, indeed : Discern'st thou aught in that ? 
Is he not honest ? 0. iii. 3. 

It is a damned ghost that we have* seen ; 
And my imaginations are as foul 

As Vulcan's stithy. H. iii. 2. 

Shall be all stuck full of eyes. H.IV, pt. i. v. 2. 

I, perchance, am vicious in my guess, 
As, I confess, it is my nature's plague 
To spy into abuses ; and, oft, my jealousy 
Shapes faults that are not. 0. iii. 3. 

Foul whisperings are abroad. M. v. 1. 


For it comes to pass oft, that a terrible oath, with a swag- 
gering accent sharply twanged off, gives manhood more 
approbation than ever proof itself would have earned him. 

T. N. iii. 4. 

When a gentleman is disposed to swear, it is not for any 
standers by to curtail his oAths. Cym. ii. 1. 

And then a whoreson jackanapes must take me up for 
swearing ; as if I borrowed mine oaths of him, and might 
not spend them at my pleasure. Cym. ii. 1. 

I'll swear upon that bottle to be thy true subject, for th*^ 
liquor is not earthly. T. ii. 2, 


swE IjiakfspEariiia Sittinimrtf. sm 


Your words, tliey rob the Hjbla bees, 
And leave them honeyless. J, C. v. 1. 

Things sweet to taste, prove in digestion sour. B. 11. i. 3. 


1 saw him beat the surges under him, 

And ride upon their backs ; he trod the water. 

Whose enmity he flung aside, and breasted 

The surge most swoln that met him ; his bold head 

'Bove the contentious waves he kept, and oar'd 

Himself with his good arms in lusty stroke 

To the shore, that o'er his wave-worn basis bow'd. 

As stooping to relieve him ; I not doubt, 

He came alive to land. T. ii. 1. 

Upon the word, 
Accoutred as I was, I plunged in, 
And bade him follow : so, indeed, he did. 
The torrent roared ; and we did buffet it 
With lusty sinews ; throwing it aside 
And stemming it with hearts of controversy. /. C. i. 2. 


A sword employed is perilous. T. C. ii. 2. 

I have a sword, and it shall bite upon necessity. M. W. ii. 1, 


Bodykins, master Page, though I now be old, and of the 
peace, if I see a sword out, my finger itches to make one : 
though we are justices, and doctors, and churchmen, master 
Page, we have some salt of our youth in us. M. W. ii. 3. 


You are merry, and so am I ; Ha ! ha ! then there's more 
sympathy : you love sack, and so do I ; — would you desire 
better sympathy ? M. W, ii. I. 

Grief best is pleas'd with griefs society. 

True sorrow then is feelingly surprised 

When with like feeling it is sympathis'd. Poems. 

Companionship in woe, doth woe assuage. Foems. 

Sweets with sweets war not ; joy delights in joy. Poems, 

Ay, sooth ; so humbled, 
That he hath left part of his grief with me ; 
I suffer with him, 0. iii. 3. 

Mine eyes, even sociable to the show of thine, 

Fall fellowly drops. 21 v. 1. 


SYM llfaltB^piiriiiii lirtinimni- sym 

SYMVATRY, —coiitinued. 

I have suiFer'd 
Witli those that I saw suffer ! a brave vessel 
(Which had, no doubt, some noble creatures in her) 
Dash'd all to pieces. 0, the cry did knock 
Against my very heart 1 Poor souls ! they perisliM. 

T. i. 2 
Was this a face 
To be exposed against the warring winds ? 
To stand against the deep, dread-bolted thunder ? 

K. L, iv. 7, 
And wast thou fain, poor father, 
To hovel thee with swine, and rogues forlorn, 
In short and musty straw ? Alack ! Alack ! 
^Tis wonder, that thy life, and wits, at once 
Had not concluded all. K. L. iv. 7. 

All bless'd secrets, 
All you unpublished virtues of the earth 
Spring with my tears ! be aidant, and remediate, 
In the good man^s distress. K, i. iv. 4. 

The mind much sufferance doth o^er-skip, 
When grief hath mates. K. L. iii. 6. 

That I am wretcned. 
Makes thee the happier : Heavens, deal so still ! 
Let the superfluous, and lust-dieted man, 
That slaves your ordinance, that Avill not see 
Because he doth not feel, feel your power quickly ; 
So distribution should undo excess, 
And each man have enough. K.L. iv. 1. 

If sorrow can admit society 
Tell o'er your woes again by viewing mine. R.III. iv. 4. 
Poor naked wretches, wheresoe'er you are, 
That bide the pelting of this pitiless storm, 
How shall your houseless heads*, and unfed sides, 
Your looped and window'd raggedness, defend you 
From seasons such as these ? 0, 1 have ta'ea 
Too little care of this 1 Take physic, pomp ; 
Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel ; 
That thou may'st shake the superfiux to them, 
And show the heavens more just. K, L. iii . 4. 


TAB llmkfHirriiriiiii Sirttntiiirt[. tal 

TABLE Talk. 

Pray thee, let it serve for table talk ; 
Then, howsoever thou speak'st, 'mong other things 
I shall digest it. M. V. iii. 5. 


0, monstrous arrogance ! Thou liest, thou thread, 

Thou thimble. 

Thou yard, three-quarters, half-yard, quarter, nail, 

Thou flea, thou nit, thou winter cricket thou : — 

Brav'd in mine own house with a skein of thread ! 

Away, thou rag, thou quantity, thou remnant: 

Or I shall so be-mete thee with thy yard, 

As thou shalt think on prating whilst thou liv'st ! 

I tell thee, I, thou hast marr'd her gown. T. S. iv. 3. 


The dram of base 
Doth all the noble substance often dout 
To his own scandal. H. i. 4. 


I shall tell you 

A pretty tale. C. i. 1. 

I will a round unvarnishM tale deliver. 0. i. 3. 

I'll to thy closet ; and go read with thee 

Sad stories, chanced in the times of old. Tit, And. iii. 2. 

A sad tale's best for winter : 

I have one of sprites and goblins. 

* * ^ -se- * 

I will tell it softly ; yon crickets 

Shall not hear it. " W. T.uA, 

But it is true, — without any slipe of prolixity, or crossing 

the plain highway of talk. M. V, iii. 1. 

An honest tale speeds best, being plainly told. B. III. iv. 4. 

Mark how a plain tale shall put you down. 

H. IV. PT. I. ii. 4. 

OF Woe 

Floods of tears will drown my oratory 
And break my very utterance. Tit. And. v. 3, 

In winter's tedious nights sit by the fire 
With good old folks ; and let them tell thee tales 
Of woeful ages, long ago betid ; 
And, ere thou bid good night, to quit their grief, 

365 31* 

TAL Ijiakrsjjrariiiii Sirtiniia'rii;. tea 

Tale op Woe, — continued. 

Tell them the lamentable fall of me, 

And send the hearers weeping to their beds. R, 11. v. 1. 

TALKER (See also Babbler). 

AVhy, what a wasp-stung and impatient fool 
Art thou, to break into this woman^s mood ; 
Tying thine ear to no tongue but thine own 1 H.IY. pt. i. i. 3. 
If you be not mad, be gone ; if you have reasx3n, be brief; 
'tis not that time of the moon with me, to make one in so 
skipping a dialogue. T. N. i. 5. 

A knave very voluble. 0. ii. 1. 


Five years ! by'r lady, a long lease for the clinking of 
pewter. H. IV. pt. i. ii. 4. 

That ever this fellow should have fewer words than a 
parrot, and yet the son of a woman ! His industry is — up 
stairs, and down stairs ; and his eloquence, the parcel of a 
reckoning. H. IV. pt. i. ii. 4. 


We must not re'/id our subjects from our laws. 

And stick them in our will. Sixth part of each ? 

A trembling contribution ! Why, we take, 

From every tree, lop, bark, and part o' the timber ; 

And, though we leave it with a root, thus hack'd, 

The air willdrink the sap. H.VIILi. 2. 

Large-handed robbers your grave masters are, 

And pill by law. T. A. iv. 1. 

By heaven, I had rather coin my heart. 

And drop my blood by drachmas, than to wring 

From the hard hands of peasants their vile trash, 

B}^ any indirection. /. (7. iv 3. 

Come, there is no more tribute to be paid : our kingdom 
is stronger than it? was at that time ; and, as I said, there 
is no more such Coesars : other of them may have crooked 
noses ; but, to owe such straight arms, none. Cym. iii 1, 
The commons hath he pilFd with grievous taxes, 
And lost their hearts. R. II. ii. 1. 

If Caesar can hide the sun from us with a blanket, or put 
the moon in his pocket, we will pay him tribute for light. 

Cym. iii. i. 

TEARS (See also Grief, Lamentation, Sorrow). 

Heaven-moving pearls. K. J. ii. 1. 

Lot me wipe off this honourable dew. 
That silverly doth progress on thy cheeks : 


TEA IjittltEspiiriiiH DirtiniiErt];. tea 

TEARS, — continued. 

My heart hath molted at a lady's tears, 

])eing an ordinary inundation ; 

But this effusion of such manly drops, 

This shower, blown up by tempest of the soul, 

Startles mine eyes, and makes me more amaz'd 

Than had I seen the vanity top of heaven 

Figured quite o'er with burning meteors. K. J. v. 2. 

Silver-shedding tears. T. G. iii. 1. 

Those e3^es of thine, from mine have drawn salt tears, 
Shamed their aspects with store of childish drops. 

jR. Ill 12, 
My manly eyes did scorn an humble tear ; 
And what these sorrows could not thence exhale, 
Thy beauty hath and made them blind with weeping. 

li. Ill i. 2. 
Sad "unhelpful tears. H. VI. pt. ii, iii. 1. 

I did not think to shed a i?ear 
In all my miseries ; but thou hast forced me. 
Out of thy honest truth, to play the woman. H. VIII. iii. 2. 

And wet his grave with my repentant tears. R. HI. i, 2. 

Thy heart is big ; get thee apart and weep, 

Passion, I see, is catching ; for mine eyes. 

Seeing those beads of sorrow stand in thine, 

Begin to water. J.C. iii. 1. 

See, see, what showers arise, 
Blcrwn with the windy tempest of my heart. 

H. VI. PT. III. ii. 5. 
The pretty and sweet manner of it forced 
Those waters from me which I would have stopped ; 
But I had not so much of man in me, 
But all my mother came into mine eyes, 
And gave me up to tears. H. V. iv. 6. 

Kaining the tears of lamentation. L. L, v. 2. 

Friends, I owe more tears. 
To this dead man, than you shall see me pay. J.C. v. 3. 

The best brine a maiden can season her praise in. 

When I did name her brothers, then fresh tears 
Stood on her cheeks ; as doth the honey dew 
Upon a gather'd lily almost wither'd. Tit. And. iii. 1, 

And he, a marble to her tears, is washed by them, and 
relents not. M. M. iii. 1. 


TEA Ijiak^sptEtiiitt Dirtinnan}. tem 

TEARS, — coniirmed. 

Trust not those cunning waters of his eyes, 

For villany is not without such rheum ; 

And he, long traded in it, makes it seem 

Like rivers of remorse and innocencj. K. J, iv. 3, 

■ Optical Illusions of. 

Each substance of a grief hath twenty shadows, 

Which show like grief itself, but are not so : 

For sorrow's eye, glazed with blinding tears, 

Divides one thing entire to many objects ; 

Like perspectives, which, rightly gaz'd upon, 

Show nothing but confusion ; ey'd awry, 

Distinguish form: so your sweet majesty, 

Looking awry upon your lord's departure, 

Finds shapes of grief, more than himself, to wail ; 

Which, look'd on as it is, is nought but shadows 

Of what is not. i?. II. ii. 2, 

Alas, poor man ! grief hath so wrought on him. 

He takes false shadows for true substances. Tit. And. iii. Li. 

■ AND Sighs. 

The tide ! Why, man, if the river were dry, I am able 
to fill it with my tears ; if the wind were down, I could 
drive the boat with my sighs. T. G. ii. 3. 


This will last out a night in Russia, 

When nights are longest there : FU take my leave, 

And leave you to the hearing of the cause ; 

Hoping you'll find good cause to whip them all. M. M. ii. 1. 

Neighbours, you are tedious. M. A. iii. 5. 

But, truly, for mine own part, if I were as tedious as a 
king, I could find in my heart to bestow it all of your 
worship. M. A. iii. 5. 


Ask God for temperance, that^s the appliance only 
Which your disease requires. H. VIIL i. 1. 


Now, by two-headed Janus, 
Nature hath form'd strange fellows in her time : 
Some that will evermore peep through their eyes, 
And laugh, like parrots, at a bagpiper ; 
And other of such vinegar aspect. 
That they'll not show their teeth in way of smile. 
Though Nestor swear the jest be laughable. M. F. i. I. 

TEM ijjakrsfriiirifin l)irtiniiiin(, tem 


Methinks, the wind hath spoke aloud at laud : 

A fuller blast ne'er shook our battlements : 

If it hath ruffian'd so upon the sea, 

What ribs of oak, when mountains melt on them, 

Can hold the mortise ? 0. ii. 1 

The night has been unruly ; where we lay, 

Our chimneys were blown down : and, as they say, 

Lamentings heard i' th' air ;•— some say the earth 

Was feverous, and did shake. M. li. 3. 

The wrathful skies 
Oallow the very wanderers of the dark, 
And make them keep their caves: since I was man, 
Such sheets of fire, such bursts of horrid thunder. 
Such groans of roaring wind and rain, I never 
Kemember to have heard. K, L. iii. 2. 

Elam'd amazement. T. i. 2. 

For do but stand upon the foaming shore. 
The chiding billows seem to pelt the clouds ; 
The wind-shak'd surge, with high, and monstrous main, 
Seems to cast water on the burning bear, 
And quench the guards of the ever-fixed pole : 
I never did like molestation view, 
On the enchafed flood. 0. ii. 1. 

The fire, and cracks 
Of sulphurous roaring, the most mighty Neptune 
Seem'd to besiege, and make his bold waves tremble, 
Yea, his dread trident shake. T. i. 2. 

Are not you mov'd, when all the sway of earth 
Shakes, like a thing unfirm ? Cicero ! 
I have seen tempests, when the scolding winds 
Have riv'd the knotty oaks ; and I have seen 
Th' ambitious ocean swell, and rage, and foam, 
To be exalted with the threatening clouds ; 
But never till to night, never till now. 
Did I go through a tempest dropping fire. 
Either there is a civil strife in heaven ; 
Or else the world, too saucy with the gods, 
Incenses them to send destruction. J.C. i. 3. 

I have seen two such sights, by sea, and by land ;— but I 
am not to say, it is a sea, for it is now the sky ; betwixt the 
firmament and it, you cannot thrust a bodkin's point. 

W, T, iii. 3. 
Let the great gods 
That keep this dreadful pother o'er our heads, 
Find out their enemies now. Tremble, thou wretch, 

TEM lljEkrsiitariiiti Birtiniiiirt]:. ter 

-HEMPI^ST,— continued. 

That hast within thee imdivulged crimes, 

Unwhipp'd of justice: Hide thee, thou bloody hand 

That perjur'd, and thou simuhir man of virtue, 

That art incestuous : Caitiff, to pieces shake, 

That under covert and convenient seeming 

Hast practised on man's life! Close pent-up guilts, 

Kive your concealing continents, and cry 

These dreadful summoners grace. I am a man. 

More sinn'd against than sinning. K. L, iii. 2. 


There lurks a still and dumb-discoursive devil, 

That tempts most cunningly. T.C, iv. 4. 

'Tis one thing to be tempted, Escalus, 

Another thing to fall. M, M, ii. 1. 

Most dangerous 
Is that temptation, that doth goad us on 
To sin in loving virtue. M. M. ii. 2. 

Let but your honour know, 
(Whom I believe to be most straight in virtue) 
That, in the workings of your own affections, 
Had time coher'd with place, or place with wishing^ 
Or that the resolute acting of your blood 
Could have attained th' effect of your own purpose, 
AVhether you had not sometime in your life 
Err'd in this point, which now you censure him, 
And puird the law upon you. M, M, ii. 1. 

I am that way going to temptation, 
Where prayers cross. M. M. ii. 2. 

Sometimes we are devils to ourselves, 
When we will tempt the frailty of our powers. 
Presuming on their changeful potency. T, C. iv. 4. 


Alas I how is't with you ? 

That you do bend your eye on vacancy. 

And with the incorporal air do hold discourse? 

Forth at your eyes your spirits wildly peep. 

And, as the sleeping soldiers in the alarm. 

Your bedded hair, like life in excrements. 

Starts up, and stands on end. H. iii. 4, 

Thrice he walked , 
By their oppressed and fear suprised eyes, 
Within his truncheon's length ; whilst they, distill'd 
Almost to jelly with the act of fear. 
Stand dumb, and speak not to him. JJ. i. 2. 

TEK IjiEltrBpturiiiii BirtinHEttf. thi 


I'ake any shape but that, and my firm nerves 

Shall never tremble. M, iii. 3. 


When a man thanks me heartily, methinks, I have given 
him a penny, and he renders me the beggarly thanks. 

Often good turns 
Are shuffled off Avith such uncurrent pay : 
But, were my worth, as is my conscience, firm, 
i"ou should find better dealing. T, N. iii. 3. 

Evermore thanks, the exchequer of the poor; 
Which, till my infant fortune come to years, 
Stands for my bounty. E, II. ii. 2. 


It would be argument for a week, laughter for a month, 
and a good jest for ever. H. IV. pt. i. ii. 2. 

THIEF, Thievery. 

He will steal. Sir, an egg out of a cloistei. A.W, iv. 3. 

What simple thief brags of his own attaint ? C, E. iii. 2. 
A plague upon't, when thieves cannot be true to one another I 

iT.IF. FT. I. ii. 2. 
• Yet thanks I must you con. 

That you are thieves profest ; that you work not 
In holier shapes : for there is boundless theft 
In limited professions. T. A. iv. 3, 

Rascal thieves. 
Here's gold : Go, sack the subtle blood of the grape, 
Till the high fever seeth your blood to froth, 
And seascape hanging: trust not the physician; 
His antidotes are poison, and he slays 
More than you rob : take wealth and lives together ; 
I)o villany, do, since you profess to do't. 
Like workmen. I'll example you with thievery: 
The sun's a thief, and with his great attraction 
Kobs the vast sea; the moon's an arrant thief, 
And her pale tire she snatches from the sun : 
The sea's a thief, whose liquid surge resolves 
The moon into salt tears : the earth's a thief, 
That feeds and breeds by a composture stolen 
From general excrement : each thing's a thief, 
The law's your curb and whip, in their rough power 
Have uncheck'd theft. Love not yourselves; away ; 
Kob one another. There's more gold • Cut throats ; 
All that you meet are thieves : To Athens, go, 

Tin |liiil{BH|iBiixiiin Sirtinimrif. thr 

TBIEY, -continued. 

Break shops ; nothing can you steal, 

But thieves do lose it. T. A. iv. 3. 

Master, be one of the'm ; 
It is an honourable kind of thievery. 21^?. iv. 1. 

THORNY Point. 

0, that way madness lies ; let me shun that ; 

No more of that. K. L. iii. 4. 


In the quick forge and working house of thought. 

H. V. V. chorus. 
Jumping o'er times ; 
Turning the accomplishment of many years 
Into an hour-glass. H. V. i. chorus 

Sky-aspiring and ambitious thoughts. R. II. i. 3 

A generation of still-breeding thoughts, 
And these same thoughts people this little world ; 
In humours, like the people of this world, 
For no thought is contented. B. 11. v. 5. 


Why, he stalks up and down like a peacock, a stride and 
a stand ; ruminates, like an hostess that hath no arithmetic 
but her brain to set down her reckoning ; bites his lip with 
a politic regard, as who should say, — there were wit in his 
head, an 'twould out; and so there is; but it lies as coldly in 
him as fire in a flint, which will not show without knooicing. 

My lord, we have 
Stood here observing him ; some strange commotion 
Is in his brain ; he bites his lip, and starts ; 
Stops on a sudden, looks upon the ground, 
Then lays his finger on his temple ; straight. 
Springs out into fiist gait, then, stops <igain, 
Strikes his breast hard ; and anon, he casts 
His eye against the moon ; in most strange postures 
We have seen him set himself. II.VIII iii. 2 

There is a mutiny in his mind. R. VIII. iii. 2 


Unmanner'd dog ! stand thou when I command : 

Advance thy halberd higher than my breast, 

Or, by St. Paul, I'll strike tnee to my foot, 

And spurn upon thee, beggar, for thy boldness. R. III. i. 2. 

Priest, beware your beard ; 
I mean to tug it, and to cuff you soundly: 

THR lljakrijiirnriiiu Dirtinimni;. thr 

lillllV. A'\\—contiuvcd. 

Under my feet I stamp thy cardinal's hat ; 

In spite of pope or dignities of church, 

Here by the cheeks Tii drag thee up and do\Tn. 

^.FI. FT. I. i. 2. 
Unhand me, gentlemen ; — 
By heaven, I'll make a ghost of him that lets me. H. i. 4. 

AYhat say you ? Hence, 
Horrible villain ! or I'll spurn thine eyes 
Like balls before me ; I'll unhair thy head ; 
Thou shalt be vrhipp'd with wire, and stew'd in brine, 
Smarting in ling'ring pickle. A. C. ii. 5. 

Therefore hence, begone : — 
But if thou, jealous, dost return to pry 
In what I further shall intend to d(j, 
By heaven, I will tear thee, joint l3y joint, 
And strew this hungry church-yard with tliy limbs: 
The time and my intents are savage wild ; 
IMore fierce, and more inexoraljle far. 
Than empty tigers, or the roaring sea. li. J. v. 3. 

By my soul. 
Your long coat, priest, protects you ; thou shoulds't feel 
INIy sword i' the blood of thee else. — My lords, 
Can ye endure to hear this arrogance? — 
And from this fellow ? E. VIIL iii. 2. 

Why, how now, ho ! from whence ariseth this? 

Are we turn'd Turks ; and to ourselves do that 

V/hich heaven hath forbid the Ottomites ? 

For Christian shame, put by this barbarous brawl: 

He that stirs next to carve for his own rage, 

Holds his soul light ; he dies upon his motion. 0. ii. 3. 

For your partaker, Poole, and you yourself, 
I'll note you in my book of memofy. 
To scourge you for this apprehension. 
Look to it well ; and say you are well warn'd. 

II. VI. FT. I. ii. 4. 
That roars so loud and thunders in the index. H. iii. 4. 

If thou neglect'st, or dost unwillingly 

What I command, I'll rack thee with old cramps : 

Fill all thy bones with aches, make thee roar, 

That beasts shall tremble at thy din. T. i. 2. 

And he that throws not up his cap for joy, 
Shall for the fault make forfeit of his head. 

H. VI. PT. III. ii. 1. 

THR IjiEkEspittriim Birtinnart];. tim 

TUBE AH, --continued. 

If thou more murmur'st, I will r.end an oaK, 

And peg thee in his knotty entrails, till 

Thou hast howFd away twelve winters. 2', i. 2, 

Well, go, muster men. But, hear you, leave behind 

Your son, George Stanley : look your heart be firm, 

Or else his head's assurance is but frail. E. III. iv. 4. 


This was a way to thrive, and he was blest ; 

And thrift is blessing, if men steal it not. M. V, i. 3 

THUNDER (See Tempest). 

TIME (See also Life, Man). 

I, — that please some, try all ; both joy, and terror, 
Of good and bad ; that make, and unfold error. 

W. T, iv. choims. 
Cormorant devouring time. . L. L. i. 1. 

What's past, and what's to come, is strew'd with husks, 
And formless ruin of oblivion. T.C. iv. 5. 

Let me pass : — 
The same I am, ere antient order was, 
Or what is now receiv'd. I witness to 
The times that brought them in ; so shall I do 
To the freshest things now reigning, and make stale 
The glistering of this present. W.T. iv. chorus,, 

Beauty, wit, 
High birth, vigour of bone, desert in service, 
Love, friendship, charity, are subjects all 
To envious and calumniating time. T.C. iii. 3. 

Come what come may. 
Time and the hour run through the roughest day. M. i. 3. 

It is in my power 
To o'erthrow law, aifd in one self-born hour, 
To plant and o'erwhehn custom. W.T. iv. cJtorus, 

What's past is prologue. T. ii, I. 

Well, thus we play the fools with the time ; and the 
spirits of the wise sit in the clouds and mock us. 

M. IV. PT. II. ii. 2. 
Let's take the instant by the forward top ; 
For we are old, and on our quick'st decrees 
The inaudible and noiseless foot of time 
Steals ere we can effect them. A W. v. 3» 

It is ten o'clock ; 
Thus may we see, quoth he, how the world wags : 

TIM Ijiiikispiiririii Dirtinniini* tim 

TIME , — CO ntinued. 

'Tis but an hour ago, since it was nine ; 
And after an hour more, ^twill be eleven ; 
And so, from hour to hour, we ripe and ripe, 
And then, from hour to hour, we rot, and rot, 
And thereby hangs a tale. A. Y. ii. 7. 

0, the mad days that I have spent ! and to see how many 
of mine old acquaintance are dead ! R. IV. pt. ii. iii. 2. 

Time travels in divers paces with divers persons. Ho 
ambles with a priest that lacks Latin, and a rich man that 
hath not the gout: for the one sleeps easily, because he 
cannot study ; and the other lives merrily, because he feels 
no pain : the one lacking the burden of lean and wasteful 
learning ; the other knowing no burden of heavy tedious 
penury; These time ambles withal. lie trots hard with a 
young maid, between the contract of her marriage, and the 
day it is solemnized : if the interim be but a so'nnight, 
time's pace is so hard, that it seems the length of seven 
years. lie gallops with a thief to the gallows : for though 
he goes as softly as foot can fall, he thinks himself too soon 
there. He stays still with lawyers in the vacation : for 
they sleep between term and term, and then they perce've 
not how time moves. A. Y. iii 2. 

She should have died herjeafter ; 

There Would have been a time for such a word. — 

To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, 

Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, 

To the last syllable of recorded time ; 

And all our yesterdays have lighted fools 

The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle I 

Life's but a walking shadow ; a poor player. 

That struts and frets his hour upon the stage. 

And then is heard no more : it is a tale 

Told by an idiot, full of sound ai%d fury 

Signifying nothing. M. y 5. 

Time, that takes survey of all the world. 
Must have a stop. H.IV. pt. i. v. 4. 

Gallop apace, you fier3^-footed, steeds, 
Towards Phoebus' mansion ; such a waggoner 
As Phaeton would wliip you to the west, 
And^bring in cloudy ni2;ht immediately. E. J. iii. 2. 

Men must endure 
Their going hence, even as their coming hither : 
Ripeness is all. K, L, v. 2. 

The extreme parts of time extremely form 
All causes to the purpose of his speed ; 

TIM lljEkESprnriflD Sirtinimrt^, tim 

1!1MI1,— continued. 

And often, at his very loose, decides 

That Avhich long process could not arbitrate. X. i. v. 2. 

Time shall unfold what plaited cunning hides. K.L.i. h 

Old Time, the clock setter, that bald sexton, Time, 

Is it as he will ? A^ /. iii. 1. 

We are Time's subjects, and Time bids be-^gone. 

if. IF. PT. II. 1,3. 
Time is like a fashionable host. 
That slightly shakes his parting guest by the hand ; 
And with his arms out-stretch'd, as he would fly, 
Grasps in the comer : welcome ever smiles, 
And farewell goes out sighing. T. C. iii. 3. 

Time is a very bankrupt, and owes more than he's worth 
to season. C. E. iv. 2. 

The clock upbraids me with the waste of time. T, N. iii. 1. 

How sour sweet music is 
When time is broke, and no proportion kept ! 
So is it in the music of our lives. E. 11. v. 5, 

• AND Decay. 

The wrinkles which thy glass will truly show, 

Of mouthed graves will give thee memory, 
Thou by thy dial's shady stealth maiest know, 

Time's thievish progress to eternity. Poems, 

Not know my voice! 0, time's extremity! 
Hast thou so crack' d and splitted my poor tongue. 
In seven short years, that here my only son 
Knows not my feeble key of untun'd cares ? 
Though now this grained face of mine be hid 
In sap-consuming winter's drizzled snow, 
And all the conduits of my blood froze up ; 
Yet hath my night of life some memory, 
My wasting lamp some fading glimmer leffc. 
My dull deaf ears a little use to hear. C. E. v. 1, 

I wasted time, and now doth time waste me. . B. IL v. 5. 
Oh, grief hath chang'd me since you saw me last, 
And careful hours, with Time's deformed hand 
Have written strange defeatures in my face. C. E.Y.I, 

TIME Server. 

Sirrah, thou art said to have a stubborn soul, 
That apprehends no farther than this world, 
And squar'st thy life according. M. M. v. 1. 

The devil a puritan is he, or any thino; constantly, but a 
time-pleaser. T. N. ii S. 

TIM llmkfspBEriitii Sirtinnttrtj. too 

TIME TRIES Offenders. 

Well, Time is the old justice that examines all such 
offenders, and let Time try. A, F. iv. 1. 


0, I could divide myself and go to buffets, for moving 
such a dish of skimm'd milk v^dth so honourable an action ! 

H.IF. ¥T. J, ii. '6. 

Such a commodity of warm slaves, as had as lief heav the 
devil as a drum. //. IV. ft. i. iv. 2. 

TIMON^S Graye. 

Timon hath made his everlasting mansion 

Upon the beached verge of the salt flood ; 

Which, once a day with his embossed froth, 

The turbulent surge shall cover ; thither come, 

And let my grave-stone be your oracle. T. A. v. 3. 

TITLES (See also Honour). 

That is honour's scorn, 
Which challenges itself as honour's born. 
And is not like the sire : Honours thrive, 
AVhen rather from our acts we them derive 
Than our foregoers. A. W. ii. 3. 

Here's a silly stately style indeed ! 
The Turk, that two-and-fifty kingdoms hath, 
Writes not such a tedious style as this : — 
Him, that thou magnifiest with all those titles. 
Stinking, and fly-blown, lies here at our feet. 

H. VL PT. I. iv. 7. 


Many a man's tongue shakes out his master's undoing. 

A. W. ii. 4. 
Be n^t thy tongue thy own shame's orator. C. E. iii. 2. 

My tongue, though not my heart, shall have his will. 

C. E. iv. 2. 

These fellows of infinite tongue, that can rhyme them 
selves into ladies' favours, — they do always reason them 
selves out again. H. V v. 2. 

TOOL (See also Piping). 

It is a creature that I teach to fight, 

To wind, to stop, to run directly on ; 

His corporal motion govern'd by my spirit. 

And, in some taste, is Lepidus but so ; 

He must be taught, and train'd, and bid go forth ; 

A barren-spirited fellow; one that feeds 

On objects, arts, and imitations; 

37^ 82* 

TOO |I;akt3|iMriaii Dtrtinirnrii, tra 

TOOL, — contiimed. 

Which, out of use, and stal'd by other men, 

Begin his fashion : Do not talk of him, ' 

But as a property. J. C, iv. 1. 

This is a slight unmeritable man, 

Meet to be sent on errands. J.C, iv. 1. 

Octavius, I have seen more days than you ; 

And though we hxy these honours on this man, 

To ease ourselA^es of divers slanderous loads, 

He shall but bear them as the ass bears gold ; 

To groan and sweat under the business, 

Either led or driven, as we point the way ; 

And having brought our treasure where we will. 

Then take we -l )wn his load, and turn him off, 

Like to the empty ass, to shake his ears. 

And graze in commons. J.C. iv. 1. 

For all the rest, 
They'll take suggestion, as a cat laps milk; 
They'll tell the clock to any business that 
We say befits the hour. T, ii. L 


I will touch thee but with reverent hands. H. VI. pt. i. v. 3 


Air-braving tovrers. H. VI. pt. i. iv. 2. 


There^s boundless theft in limited professions. T. A. iv. 3, 


For I must talk of murders, rapes, and massacres. 
Acts of black night, abominable deeds, 
Complots of mischief, treason ; villanies 
Ruthful to hear, yet piteously performed. Tit. And. v. 1. 
Begin, murderer ; — leave thy damnable faces, and begin. 

H. iii. 2. 
What scene of death hath Eoscius now to act ? 

H. VI. PT. III. V. 6, 


A kissing traitor. L. L. v, 2. 

To say the truth, so Judas kiss'd his master ; 
And cried — all hail ! when as he meant — all harm. 


I protest, 
Maugre thy strength, youth, place, and eminence. 
Despite thy victor sword, and fire-new fortune, 


TEA lijnktsjitiitiaii Dirtiniiat!}. tra 


Thy valour, and thy heart, — thou art a traitor : 

Faiae to thy gods, thy brother, and thy fcither ; 

Conspirant ^^-ainst this high illustrious prince ; 

And from the extremest upward of thy head, 

To the descent and dust beneath thy feet, 

A most toad-spotted traitor. K. L. v. 3. 

Some of you, with Pilate, wash your hands, 
ShoAving an outward pity ; yet you Pilates 
Have here delivered me to my sour cross, 
And w^ater cannot wash away your sin. B. 11. iv. 1. 

0, passing traitor, perjur'd, and unjust. H.VI, pt. hi. v.l. 
A giant traitor. E. VIII i. 2. 

Th us do all traitors : 
If their purgation did consist in words, 
They are as innocent as grace itselt\ A.Y/i. 3. 

Though those that are l)otray'd 
Do feel the treason sharply, yet the traitor 
Stands in w^orse case of woo. Ci/m, iii. 4. 

But cruel are the times, when we are traitors, 

And do not know ourselves ; when w^e hold rumour 

From wdiat we fear, yet know not what we fear ; 

But float upon a wild and violent sea, 

Each w^ay. M. iv. 2. 

Oh, let me live, 
And all the secrets of our camp Fll show. A. W. iv. 1. 


He hath studied her well, and translated her well; out 
of honesty into English. M. W, i. 3. 


Now is the woodcock near the gin. T, N. ii. 5. 

TRAVELLING (See also Home-breeding). • 
All places that the eye of heaven visitp, 
Are to the wise man ports and happy havens. R. II. i. 3 
Home-keeping youth have ever homely w^its 
Wer't not affection chains thy tender days 
To the sweet glances of thy honour'd love, 
I rather would entreat thy company, 
To see the w^onders of the w^orld abroad. 
Than, living dully sluggardis'd at home. 
Wear out thy youth w^ith shapeless idleness. T. G.\. 1. 

I had rather have a tool to make me merry, than expe- 
rience to make me sad ; and to travel for it too. A.Y, iv. 1. 


TRA lijakiJiiiitariaii Dlriiniiarii. tre 


A traveller ! 13v my faith you have great reason to be 
sad: I fear, .yoii have sold your own lands, to see other 
men's ; then, to have seen much, and to have nothing, is to 
have rich eyes and poor hands. A. Y. iv. 1. 

Thou didst make tolerable vent of thy travel. A. W. ii. 3. 

Travellers ne^er did lie, 
Though fools at home condemn them. T. iii. 3. 

Farewell, monsieur traveller ; Look, you lisp, and wear 
strange suits ; disable all the benefits of your own country ; 
be out of love with your nativity, and almost chide God for ^ 
making you that countenance you are ; or I will scarce think 
you have swam in a gondola. A. Y. iv. 1. 

They have all new legs, and lame ones ; one would take it, 
That never saw them pace before, the spavin, 
A spring-halt reign'd among them. H.VIIL i. 3. 

As far as I see, all the good our English 
Have got by the late voyage, is but merely 
A fit or two o' the face ; but they are shrewd ones ; 
For when they hold them, you would swear directly 
Their very noses had been counsellors 
To Pepin, or Clothariiis, they keep state so. H. VIIL i. 3. 
He did request me to importune you. 
To let him spend his time no more at home. 
Which would be great impeachment to his age, 
In having known no travel in his youth. T. G. i. 3. 

Ay, now am I in Arden : the more fool I ; when I was 
at home, I was in a better place ; but travellers must be 
content. A. Y. ii. 4. 

Types of travel. ff. VIIL i. 3. 


monstrous treachery ! Can this be so ; 
That in alliance, amity, and oaths. 

There shomd be found such false dissembling guile? 

H. VI. FT. r. iv. 2. 
As a Avood-cock to my own springe, Osrick, 

1 am justly kill'd with mine own treachery. //. v. 2. 


Suspicion shall be all stuck full of eyes : 
For treason is but trusted like the fox; 
Who, ne'er so tame, so cherisliM, and lock'd up, 
Will have a wild trick of his ancestors. 
Look how we can, or sad, or merrily, 
Interpretation will misquote our looks ; 


THE IjjukBgpiiriiiE iittinttarij. tro 

TREASON,— continued. 

And we shall feed like oxen at a stall, 
The better cherish' d (till the nearer death. 

ir./r. PT.I.V.2. 

Some treason, masters ; yet stand close. M. A. iii. 3. 


She does so blush, and fetches her wind so short, as if she 
was frayed with a sprite : I'll fetch her. It is the prettiest 
villain :— She* fetches her breath as short as a new ta'en 
sparrow. ^^-0. iii. 2. 


AVithhold thine indignation, mighty heaven, 

And tempt us not to bear above our power ! K. J. v. 6. 


With trial-fire touch me his finger-end ; 

If he be chaste, the flame will back descend, 

And turn him to no pain ; but if he start, 

It is the flesh of a corrupted heart. M. W, v. 5. 


My master hath been an honourable gentleman, tricks he 
hath had in him, as gentlemen have. A. W. v. 3. 

Well ; if I be served such another trick, I'll have my 
brains ta'en out, and buttered, and give them to a dog for 
a new year's gift. M. W. iii. 5. 

TRIFLING, Ill-Timed. 

All solemn things 
Should answer solemn accidents. The matter ? 
Triumphs for nothing, and lamenting toys, 
Is jollity for apes, and grief for boys. Cym. iv. 2. 

Pr'ythee, have done ; 
And do not play in wench-like words with that 
AV^hich is so serious. Cym, iv. 2. 


Immoment toys, things of such dignity 

As we greet modern friends withal. A.C. v. 2. 


0, how full of briers is this working-day world ! A.Y, i. 3. 
As flies to wanton boys are we to the gods ; 
They kill us for their sport. K. L. iv. I. 

Thou seest we are not all alone unhappy ; 
This wide and universal theatre 
Presents more woeful pageants than the scene 
Wherein we play. A.Y. ii. 7. 

SSI « 

TRu |liElvBB|iuriiiii Sirtinimrtj;. tru 


Myself have been an idle truant, 
Omitting the sweet benefit of time, 
To clothe mine age with angel-like perfection. T. G, ii. 4. 


Trumpet, blow loud ; 
Send thy brass voice through all these lazy tents. T.C i.3. 
Make all our trumpets speak ; give them all breath ; 
Those clamorous harbingers of blood and death. M. v. 6. 
Go to the rude ribs of that antient castle ; 
Through brazen trumpet send the breath of parle 
Into his ruinM ears, and thus deliver. B. II. iii. 3, 

Give, with tby trumpet, a loud note to Troy, 
Thou dreadful Ajax ; that the apalled air 
May pierce tbe head of the great combatant, 
And hale him thither. T.C. iv.5. 

Thou, trumpet, there's my purse. 
Now crack thy lungs, and split thy brazen pipe : 
Blow, villain, till thy sphered bias cheek 
Out-swell the cholic of puffed Aquilon : 
Come, stretch thy chest, and let thy eyes spout blood : 
Thou blow'st for Hector. 

r. a iv. 5. 

"With brazen din, blast you the city's ear ; 
Make mingle with our rattling tabourines ; 
That heaven and earth may strike their sounds together, 
Applaudiug our approach. A. C. iv. 8. 

Soui:id, trumpets ! Let our bloody colours wave ! 
And either victory, or else a grave. H.VL pt. hi. ii. 2. 


Did tell me of you, bade me trust you ; but 
I do not greatly care to be deceivM, 
That have no use for trusting. A.C. v. 2. 


Truth is truth 
To the end of reckoning. ^ M. M, v. 1. 

Truth needs no colour, — beauty no pencil. Poems. 

Alas, it is my vice, my fault : 
Wbile others fish with craft for great opinion, 
I with great truth catch mere simplicity. T. C. iv. 4. 

Tell truth, and shame the devil. 
If ^i3Qu have power to raise him, bring him hither, 

• 382 

TRu IjialttHjiBiiriiiii DirtiniiEtii* tyr 

I RVTIl,— continued. 

And I'll be sworn, I have power to shame him henoe. 

0, while you live, tell truth, and shame the devil. 

H. IV, FT. I. iii. 1, 

Hence, thou suborned informer 1 a true soul. 

When most impeacht, stands least in thy controul. Poems. 

If circumstances lead me, I will find 

AVhere truth is hid, though it were hid indeed 

Within the centre. H. ii. 2. 

Pr'ythee sponk ; 

Falseness cannot come from thee, for thou looVst 

Modest as justice, and thou seem'st a palace » 

For the crowned truth to dwell in : Fll believe thee, 

And make my senses credit thy relation, 

To points that seem impossible ; for thou look^st 

Like one I lovM indeed. P. P. v. 1. 

I am as true as truth's simplicity. 

And simpler than the infancy of truth. T,C. iii. 2. 

Methinks, the truth should live from age to age, 

As 'twere retail'd to all posterity, 

Even to the general all-ending day P. III. iii. 1. 

Never man 

SIgh'd truer breath. C. iv. 5. 

Truth loves open dealing. H.VIII. iii. 1. 

Would, half my wealth 

Would buy this for a lie. C. iv. 6. 

What, can the devil speak true M. i. 3. 

That truth should be silent, I had almost forgot* A.C. ii. % 
Truth's a dog that must to kennel : he must be whipped 

out, when Lady the brach, may stand by the fire and stink. 

K. L. i. 4. 
— . An Unwelcome, rarely told. 

Life-loving sick men, when their deaths are near, 

No news but health from their physicians know. Poems, 


Our country sinks beneath the yoke ; 
It weeps, it bleeds ; and each new day a gash 
Is added to her wounds M iv. 3. 

I grant him bloody, 
Luxurious, avaricious, false, deceitful. 
Sudden, malicious, smacking of every sin 
That has a name. M. iv. 3. 

He would 
Have made them mules, silenc'd their pleaders, and 


TYii |!ia!ir:;::ariiiii J^.tlaiiarq. tyr 

TYRANT,— fo??,/m?/rr7. 

Dispropertiod thoir free(L)ms ; lioldiug them, 

III iiuiiian action and capacity, 

Of no more soul, nor fitness for tlio world, 

Than camcds in their war; who have their provand 

Only for |j(^arin,<2; bi rdens, and sore blows 

For sinking under them. C. ii. 1, 

Upon thy eye-balls murd'rous tyranny 

Sits in grim majesty to fright the world. II. VI. pt. ii. iii. 3. 

Bleed, bleed poor country ! 
Great tyranny, lay thou thy basis sure, 
For goodness dares not chock thee ! wear thou thy wrongs, 
Thy title is aifeer'd. M. iv. 3, 

For what is he they follow ? truly, gentlemen, 

A bloody tyrant, and a homicide ; 

One rais'd in blood, and one in blood establish'd; 

One that made means to come by Tvhat he hath, 

And slaug'hter'd those tliat were the means to help him ; 

A base foul stone, made precious by th.e foil 

Of England's chair, where lie is falsely set, 

One that hath ever been God's enemy : 

Then, if you light against God's enemy, 

God will, injustice, ward you as his soldiers. R. III. v. 3. 

I'll not call you tyrant ; 
But this most cruel usage of j^our queen 
(Not a])le to {produce more accusation 
Than your own weak-hing'd fancy,) something savours 
Of tyranny, and will ignoble make yoCi, 
Yea, sciyidalous to the world. TF. T. ii. 

Till now you have gone on, and fill'd the time 

With all licentious measure, making your wills 

The scope of justice ; till now, myself, and such 

As slept within the shadow of your power, 

Have wander'd with our travers'd arms, and breatliM 

Our sufferance vainly. T. A v. 5, 

And why should Cjissar be a tyrant then ? 

Poor man ! I know he would not be a wolf. 

But that he sees the Romans are^ but sheep ; 

He were no lion, were not Romans hinds,. 

Those that with haste would make a migthy fire. 

Begin it with weak straws : What trash is Rome, 

What rubbish, and what offal, when it serves, 

For the base matter to illuminate 

So vile a thing as Cossar ? J. C, i. 3. 

This t^a-ant, whose sole name blisters our tongues. 

"Was once thoughl honest. JIT, 17.3. 


TYR Ijinkriiiimriiiii DirtinnEnj. val 


His demand 
Springs not from Edward's well-meant honest love, 
fUit from deceit, bred by necessity; 
For hoAY can tyrants safely govern home, 
Unless abroad they purchase great alliance ? 

R. VL PT. III. iii. 3. 
nation miserable, 
With an untitled tyrant, bloody scepter'd, 
When shalt thou see thy wholesome days again? M. iv. 3. 
Then live to be the show and gaze o' the time ; 
We^ll have thee, as our rarer monsters are, 
Painted upon a pole ; and under writ,. 
Here may you see the tyrant. M. v. 7. 

'Tis time to fear, when tyrants seem to kiss. P. P. i. 2. 

T^'rants' fears 
Decrease not, but grow faster with their years. P. P. i. 2. 
Those he commands, move only in command, 
Nothing in love. M. v. 2. 

0. 1. 


The city cast 
Her people out upon her, and Antony, 
Enthroned in the marh^^t-place, did sit alone, 
Whistling to tlie air ; whicli, but for vacancy. 
Had gone to gaze on Cleopatra too, 
And made a gap in nature. A, C. ii. 2. 

VALOUR (See also Courage). 

lie's ti-uly valiant, that can wisely suffer 

The worst that man can breathe ; and make his wrongs 

His outaides ; wear them, like his raiment, carelessly; 

And ne'er prefer his injuries to his heart, 

To bring it into danger. T. A. iii. 5* 

Here, there, and every whore, he leaves and takes ; 

Dexterity so oboAdng a]~)potite, 

That what he will, lie does ; and does so much, 

Tiiat proof is call'd impossibility. T.C\ r. 5. 

Engaging and redeeming of himself, 

Vv'itli suvni a careless force, and forceless care, 

As if that luck, in \ery spite of cunning, 

Bade him win all. T.C. v. 5. 

_ It is held. 
That valour is the chiefest virtue, and 

3S5 ^n 

VAL IlialtEHiiniriiin BirtiHimnf. val 

VALOUR, — continued. 

Most dignifies the haver : if it "be, 

The man I speak of cannot in the world 

Be singly counterpois'd. C. ii. 2, 

His valour shown upon our crests to-day, 

Hath taught us how to cherish such high deeds, 

Even in the bosom of our adversaries. H. IV, pt. i. v. 5. 

0, this boy 
Lends mettle to us all ! H, IV. pt. i. v. 4 

Methought he bore him in the thickest troop, 
As doth a lion in a herd of neat : 
Or as a bear encompassed round with dogs, 
Who, having pinch'd a few, and made them cry, 
The rest stand all aloof and bark at him. 

H. VI. PT. III. ii. 1. 

When valour preys on reason, 
It eats the sword it fights with. A. C. iii. 11. 

In a false quarrel their is no true valour. M. A. v. L 

I told you. Sir, they were red hot with drinking ; 

So full of valour, that they smote the air 

For breathing in their faces ; beat the ground 

For kissing of their feet. T. iv. 1. 

Plague onH ; an I thought he had been valiant, and sc 
cunning in fence, Fd have seen him damned ere Fd have 
challenged him. 2\N. ii. 4. 

What valour were it, when a cur doth grin. 
For one to thrust his hand between his teeth. 
When he might spurn him with his foot away ? 

H.VI. PT. III. i. 4. 

The Douglas, and the Hotspur, both together. 

Are confident against the world in, arms. H.IV. pt. i. v. 1. 

Disdaining fortune, with his brandish^ steel, 

AVhich smok'd with bloody execution, 

Like valour's minion 

Carved out his passage, till he facM the slave. M. i. 1. 

The better part of valour is discretion ; in the which 
better part I have saved my life. H. IV. pt. i. v. 4. 

Why, thou knowest I'm as valiant as Hercules : but be- 
ware instinct ; the lion will not touch the true prince. Instinct 
is a great matter ; I was a coward on instinct. I shall think 
the better of myself and thee during my life ; I, for a 
valiant lion, and tliou, for a true prince H. IV. pt. i, ii. 4. 


Their fortunes both are weighed : 
In your lord^s scale is nothing but himself, 
And some few vanities that make him light. R, II. iii. 4. 


What is aught, but as 'tis valued? 21 C. ii. 2. 

But value dwells not in particular will ; 

It holds his estimate and dignity 

As well wherein 'tis precious of itself 

As in the prizer : 'tis mad idolatry. 

To make the service greater than the god ; 

And the will dotes, that is attributive 

To what infectiously itself aifects, 

Without some image of the affected merit. T. C. ii. 2. 


We are such stuff 
As dreams are made of, and our little life 
Is rounded with a sleep. T. iv. 1. 

To worship shadows and adore false shapes. T, G. iv. 2. 
Light vanity, insatiate cormorant, 
Consuming means, soon preys upon itself. i?. //. ii. 1 

By the strength of their illusion 
Shall draw him on to his confusion. M. iii. 5. 

Shine out, fair sun, till I have bought a glass, 
That I may see my shadow as I pass. E. III. i. 2. 


Theiie is an old poor man, 
Who after me hath many a weary step 
Limp'd in pure love ; till ho be first sufficed, 
Oppressed with two groat evils, age and hunger, 
I will not touch a bit. A.Y. ii. 7. 

Let but the commons hear this testament, 
(Which, pardon me, I do not mean to read>) 
And they would go and kiss dead Caqsar's wounds, 
And dip their napkins in his sacred blood 
Yea, beg a hair of him for memory, 
And, dying, mention it within their wills, 
Bequeathing it, as a rich legacy, 
Unto their issue. /. C. iii. 2. 


I know our country disposition well ; 

In Venice they do let heaven see the pranks 

They dare not show their husbands ; their best conscience 

Is — not to leave undone, but keep unknown. 0. iii. '6, 


VEN IjniktHjiBiiriiiii l)irtiiiiiiin[. vie 


Are there no stones in heaven 
But what serve for the thunder ? O v. 2. 

Arise, black vengeance, from thy hollow cell 1 

Yield up, love, thy crown and hearted throne, 

To tyrannous hate ! sw^ell, bosom, wdth thy fraught, 

For 'tis of aspics' tongues 1 0. iii. 3. 


If Jupiter 
Should from yond' cloud speak divine things 
And say, 'tis true, Pd not believe them more 
Than thee, all noble Marcius. C. iv. 5. 

VERBOSITY (See also Words). 

lie draw^eth out the thread of his verbosity finer than the 
staple of his agrument. L.L, v. 1. 

Words, words, merje words, no matter from the heart. 

r.C. v.3. 

Gratiano speaks an infinite deal of nothing, more than 
any man in all Venice : His reasons are as two grains of 
wheat hid in two bushels of chafi*; you shall seek all day 
ere you find them, and w^hen you have found them, they are 
not worth the search. M. V. i. 1. 


Verily ! 

You put me off with limber vows : But I, 

Though you would seek to unsphere the stars with oaths, 

Should yet say, Sir, no going. Vei^y, 

You shall not go ; a lady's verily is 

As potent as a lord's. W.T. i. 2. 


He did look far 
Into the service of the time, and was 
Biscipled of the bravest ; he lasted long ; 
But on us both did haggish age steal on. 
And w^ore us out of act. A. W, i. 2. 

VICE, Prevalent. 

All sects, all ages, smack of this vice. M, M, ii. 2 

Yes, in good sooth, the vice is of a great kindred ; it is 

well allied. i/ i¥. iii.2, 


Yet better thus, and known to be contemn'd, 
Than still contemn'd and flatter'd. To be worst, 

VIC |l}iiki!H|iBiiriiiu Sittinnarti. vm 

VICISSITVBE— continued. ^ 

The lowest, and most dejected thing of fortune, 

Stands still in esperance, lives not in fear ; 

The lamentable change is from the best ; 

The worst returns to laughter. AVelcome then, 

Thou unsubstantial air, that I embrace ! 

The wretch, that thou hast blown unto the worst, 

Owes nothing to thy blasts. K. L. iv. 1. 

World, world, world ! 
But that thy strange mutations make us hate thee, 
Life would not yield to ago. K. L. iv. 1. 


To whom God will, there be the victory. 

H. YL PT. III. ii. 5. 

A victory is twice itself, when the achiever brings home 
full numbers. M. A.'i.l, 

Thus far our fortune keeps an upward course, 
And we are graced with wreaths of victory. 

^H. VL FT. III. V. 8. 

0, such a day, 
So fought, so follow'd, and so fairly won. 
Come not, till now, to dignify the times. 
Since Ccesar's fortunes. II. IV. pt. ti. i. 1. 

Mine enemies are all knit up 
In their distractions. T. iii. 3. 

VILLAIN (See also Knate, Rogue). 

Slave, soulless villain, dog ! 

rarely base ! A. 0,-^.2. 

When rich villains have need of poor ones, poor ones 
may make vrhat price thoy will. M. A. iii. 3. 

He hath out-villa ined villany so flxr, that the rarity re- 
deems him. A. W. iv. 3. 

1 like not fair terms, and a villain's mind. M. V. i. 3. * 

In this, though I cannot he said to l)e a flattering honest 
man, it must not be denied tliat I am a plain-dealing villain. 

if. J.i.3. 


I would not marry her, though she were endowed with 
all that Adam had left him before lie transgressed : she 
would have made Ilorcuh's Iiave turned spit; yea, and have 
cleft his club fo make the fire too. -^ ^^ I would to God 

S89 33* 

YiK liifiluniinuiiiii S)irtiniian{. vit 


sr>nie scholar would conjure her ; for, certainly, while she is 
here, a man may live as quiet in hell, as iu a sanctuary. 


Bless our poor virginity from underminers and blowers 
up. Is there no military policy, how virgins might blow up 
men ? A. W. i. 1. 


Virtue is bold, and goodness never fearful. M. M. iii. 1. 

But virtue, as it never will be mov'd. 

Though lewdness court it in a shape of heaven ; 

vSi) lust, though to a radiant angel linkM, 

Will sate itself in a celestial bed, 

And prey on garbage. H. i. 5. 

Never could the strumpet, 
AVith all her double vigour, art, and nature. 
Once stir my temper ; but this virtuous maid 
Subdues me quite : Ever, till now, 
When men were fond, I smii'd, and wonder'd how. 

M. M. ii. 2. 
Assume a virtue, if you have it not. 
Thtit monster, custom, who all sense doth eat 
Of habit's devil, is angel yet in this ; 
That to the use of actions fair and good 
He likewise gives a frock, or livery, 
That aptly is put on. H. iii. 4. 

Virtue is of so little regard in these costormonger times, 
that true valour is turned bear-herd. H. IV. pt. ii. i. 2. 

AND Ability. 

I held it ever, 
Virtue and cunning were endowments greater 
Than nobleness and riches : careless heirs 
May the two latter darken and expend; 
But immortality attends the former, 
Making a man a god. P. P. iii. 2. 


Virtue preserv'd from fell destruction\s blast, 
Led on by heaven, and crown'd with joy at last. 

P. P, v. E^, 

VITUPERATION (See also Abuse). 

What man ii good temper could endure this tempest of 
exclamation ? iJ. IV^ pt. ii. ii. 1. 

The bitter clamour of two eager tongues. B. II. i. 1, 


(TNA IjiflkB^pBiiriaii SirtiEDiini'. uns 


I would we were all of one mind, and one mind, good : 
0, there were desolation of jailers and gallowses. Q/«i. v. 4. 


Shallow. — Use his men well, Davy ; for they are arrant 
knaves, and will backbite. 

Davij. — No worse than they are back-bitten. Sir ; for 
they have marvellous foul linen. H.IV, pt. ii. v. 1. 


There is but one puritan amonst them, and he sings 
psalms to hornpipes. W.T, iv. 2. 

On old Ilyems' chin, and icy crown, 
An od'rous chaplet of sweet summer buds 
Is, as in mockery, set. M. N. ii. 2. 


Thou, whom the heaven^s plagues, 
Have humbled to all strokes. K, L. iv. 1. 

UNION. Unity 

So we grew together. 
Like to a double cherry, seeming parted, 
But yet a union in partition ; 
Two lovely berries moulded on one stem : 
So, with two seeming bodies, but one heart ; 
Two of the first, like coats in heraldry. 
Due but to one, and crowned with one crest. M.N. iii. 2. 
The amity that wisdom knits not, folly may easilv untie. 

>.a ii.3. 
Then you love us, we you, and we'll clasp hands: 
When peers thug knit, a kingdom ever stands. P. P. ii. 4. 
lie, that parts us, shall bring a brand from heaven, 
And fire us hence, like foxes. K, L. v. 5 


Is there any cause in nature that makes these hard hearts ? 

K, L. iii. G. 


Your leavy screens throw down, 
And show like those you are. M. v. 6 


Something is rotten in the state of Denmark. II. i. 4. 

Gilded torabs do worms infold. M. V. ii. 7. 

Nay, not as one would say, healthy ; but so sound, as 

things that are hollow. M.M. i. 2. 


UNY lljiikHpaiian Dirtinnanf. tow 


To the greedy touch 
Of common-kissing Titan. Cym, iii. 4, 


You are not worth the dust which the rude wind 

Blows in your face. K. L, iv. 2, 

Thou wert dignified enough, 
Even to the point of envy, if 'twere made 
Comparative for your virtues to be styFd 
The under hangman of his kingdom, and hated 
For being preferred so well. Cy7n. ii. 3. 


Why, Hal, 'tis my vocation, Hal; 'tis no sin for a man 
to labour in his vocation. 11. IV. ft. i. i. 2. 


The shepherd knows not thunder from a tabor, 

More than I know the sound of Marcius' tongue, , 

From every meaner man's. C. i. 6. 


Who starves the ears she feeds, and makes them hungry, 
The more she gives them speech. P. F. v. 1. 

VOWS (See also Lovers' Vows, Oaths). 

Riotous madness. 
To be entangled wii^ those mouth- u] ado vows 
Which break themselves in swearing. A. C. i. 3. 

The gods are deaf to hot and peevish vows 
They are polluted offerings, more abhor'd 
Than spotted livers in the sacrifice. T,C. v. 3. 

Men's vows are women's traitors ! All good seeming, 

By thy revolt, husband, shall be thought 

Put on for villany ; not born, wher't grows ; 

But worn, a bait for ladies. Cym. iii. 4. 

It is the purpose that makes strong {h(^, vow ; 

But vows to every purpose must not hold. T C. v. 3. 

Unheodful vows may heedfully be broken. T.G. ii. 6. 

' Connubial, Falsified (See also Incontinence). 

Sucii an act, 
That blurs the grace and blush of modesty ; 
Calls virtue, hypocrite ; takes off the rose 
From the fair forehead of an innocent love. 
And sets a blister there ; makes iijarriage vows 
As false as dicers' oaths. H. iii. 4. 


UPS IjiiikrHpariiiii Birttniiiinf. uti 


A man, they say, that from very nothing, beyond the 
imagination of his neighbours, is grown into an uns|)eaka- 
ble estate. W. T. iv, 1. 


The affair cries, — haste, 
And speed must answer it. 0. i. 3. 

The time will not allow the compliment, 

Which very manners urges. K. L, v. 3. 

A horse ! a horse ! my kingdom for a horse ! B. III. v. 4, 

Iler business looks in her 
With an importing visage. A. W. v. 3. 


That use is not forbidden usury, 

Which happies those that pay the willing loan. Poems. 

Banish usury, that makes the senate ugly. T. A, iii. 5. 


Poor rogues, and usurers' men! bawds between gold and 
want ! T. A. ii. 2. 


A sceptre snatched with an unruly hand, 

Must be as boisterously maintained as gained: 

And he that stands upon a slippery place, 

Makes nice of no vile hold to stay him up. K. J. iii. 4. 

In the name of God, 
IIow comes it then, that thou art call'd a king, 
When living blood doth in these temples beat, 
AVhich owe the crown that thou o'ermasterest ? K. J. ii. 1, 

Those he commands, move only in command, 

Nothing in love: now does he feel the title 

Hang loose about him, like a giant's robe 

Upon a dwarfish thief. M. v. 2. 

A vice of kings ; 
A cut-purse of the empire and the rule ; 
That from a shelf the precious diadem stole 
And put it in his pocket. H. iii. 4. 

No hand of blood and bone 
Can gripe the sacred handle of our sceptre, 
Unless he do profane, steal, or usurp. B, II. iii. 3. 


A stirring dwarf we do allowance give 
Before a sleeping giant. T.C, li. 3. 


WAG |iiiiItBH|iBEriiiii Sirtiiiniini:^ war 



Though't be a sportful combat, 
Yet in the trial much opinion dwells. T, (7. i. 3. 

Nothing can seem foul to those that win. MJV, pt. i. v. 1. 


A waggish courage ; 
Ready in gibes, quick-answer' d, saucy, and 
As qu' ^relous as a weasel. Cym. iii. 4. 


He that commends me to mine OAvn content, 

Commends me to the thing I cannot get 

I to the world am like a drop of water, 

That in the ocean seeks another drop ; 

Who, falling there to find his fellow forth, 

Unseen, inquisitive, confounds himself. C. E.\. 2, 


AYhere notliing wants, that want itself doth seek, 

X.i. iv. 3. 


Your worship's a wanton. M. W. ii. 2. 


The spirit of wantonness is, sure, scared out of him ; if 
the devil have him not in fee simple, with tine and reco- 
very, he will never, I think, in the w^ay of waste, attempt 
us again. M. W. iv. 2. 

WAR (See also Battle). 

The storm is up, and all is on the hazard. J. (7. v. 1. 

Slaves for pillage fighting. 
Obdurate vassals, fell exploits effecting, 
In bloody deaths and ravishments delighting ; 

Nor children's tears, nor mothers' groans respecting. 

Put armour on thine ears, and on thine eyes ; 
Whose proof, nor yells of mothers, maids, nor babes, 
Nor sight of priests in holy vestments bleeding, 
Shall pierce a jot. T, A. iv. 3. 

The grappling vigour, and rough frown of war. K. J. iii. L 
The imminent deatu of twenty thousand men, 
That, for a fantasy, and trick of fame, 
Go to their graves like beds ; fight for a plot, 

wA^ |IiaIvJS{rBiirifiir Dirtinimri^. war 

WAR, — continued. 

Whereon the numbers cannot try the cause ; 

Which is not tomb enough, and continent, 

To hide the slain. H. iv. 4 

Giving our holy virgins to the stain 

Of contumelious, beastly, mad-brain'd vrar. T. A. v. 2, 

Let it not disgrace me, 
If I demand, before this royal view, 
What rub, or what impediment, there is. 
Why that the naked, poor, and mangled peace. 
Dear nurse of arts, plenties, and joyful births, 
Should not, in tliis best garden of the world, 
Our fertile France, put up her lovely visage ? 
Alas ! she hath from France too long been chasM ; 
And all her husbandry doth lie on heaps, 
Corrupting in its own fertility. 
Her vine, the merry cheerer of the heart, 
Unpruned, dies : her hedges even-pleach'd, — 
Like prisoners wildly overgrown with hair, 
Put forth disorder'd twigs : her fallow leas 
The darnel, hemlock, and rank fumitory, 
Doth root upon ; while that the coulter rusts, 
That should deracinate such savagery: 
The even mead, that erst brought sweetly forth 
The freckled cowslip, burnet, and green clover, 
Wanting the scythe, all uncorrected, rank, 
Conceives by idleness ; and nothing teems. 
But hateful docks, rough thistles, kecksies, burs. 
Losing both beauty and utility. 
And as our vineyards, fallows, meads, and hedges, 
Defective in their natures, grow to wildness ; 
Even so our houses, and ourselves, and children, 
Have lost, or do not learn, for want of time, 
The sciences that should become our country; 
But grow, like savages, — as soldiers will, 
That nothing do but meditate on blood, — 
To swearing, and stern looks, diffus'd attire, 
And every thing that seems unnatural. H. V. v. 2, 

Now, for the bare-pic Vd bone of majesty. 

Doth dogged war bristle his angry crest, 

And snarleth in the gentle eyes of peace : 

Now powers from home, and discontents at home, t 

Meet in one line ; and vast confusion waits 

(As doth a raven on a sick-falPn beast) 

The imminent decay of wrested pomp. 

Now happy he, whose cloak and cincture can 

Hold out this tempest. K. J, iv. 3, 


WAR llfukESptiiriaii I)irtinHiir!|. ivak 

WAU, — continued. 

Lean famine, quartering steel, and climbing fire. 

//. VI. PT. I. iv. 2. 
Now all the youth of England are on fire, 
And silken dalliance in the wardrobe lies ; 
Now thrive the armourers, and honour's thought 
Keigns solely in the breast of every man : 
They sell the pasture now to buy the horse ; 
Following the mirror of all Christian kings, 
With winged heels, as English Mercuries. H. V. ii. cliorus: 

Accursed and unquiet wrangling days ! 

How many of you have mine eyes beheld ! 

My husband lost his life to get the crown ; 

And often up and down my sons were toss'd, 

For me to joy, and weep, their gain and loss; 

And, being seated, and domestic broils 

Clean overblown, themselves, the conquerors 

Make war upon themselves ; brother to brother. 

Blood to blood, self Against self. preposterous 

And frantic outrage ! end thy damned spleen ; 

Or let me .die, to look on death no move ! U, III. ii. 4. 

Two thousand souls, and twenty thousand ducats, 

Will not debate the question of this straw : 

This is the imposthume of much wealth and peace ; 

That inward breaks, and shows no cause without, 

Why the man dies. II. iv. 4. 

The toil of the war, 
A pain that only seems to seek out danger 
r the name of fame, and honour ; which dies i' \hQ search. 

Cijm. iii. 3. 
Hence, therefore, thou nice crutch ; 
A scaly gauntlet now, v.^ith joints of stceb 
Must glove this hand: And hence, thou sickly quoif; 
Thou art a guard too wanton for tlie head, 
Which princes, flesh'd with conquest, aim to hit. 

//. IV. PT. II. i. 1. 
The gates of mercy shall be all shut up ; 
And the flesh'd soldier, — rough and hard of heart, — • 
In liberty of bloody hand, shall range 
With conscience wide as hell ; mowing like grass 
Your fresh fair virgins and your flow'ring infants. 

H. V, iii. 3. 
This churlish knot of all-abhorred war. H, IV. pt. :. v, 1. 

war, thou son of hell. 
Whom angry heavens do make tlieir minister, 
Throw in the frozen bosoms of our parts 

vTAR IIialtBspiitiaii DittiniiEni. wab 

W A R , — continued. 

Hot coals of vengeance ! Let no soldier fly : 

He that is truly dedicate to war, 

Hath no self-love ; nor he, that loves himself, 

Hath not essentially, but by circumstance, 

The nam© of valour. H. VI. pt. ii. v. 2. 

In a moment, look to see 
The blind and bloody soldier, with foul hand, 
Defile the locks of your shrill-shrieking daughters ; 
Your fathers taken by the silver beards, 
And their most reverend heads dash'd to the walls ; 
Your naked infants spitted upon pikes ; 
Whiles the mad mothers with their howls confused 
Do break the clouds. H. V. iii. 3. 

The nimble gunner 
With linstock now the devilish cannon touches. 

H. V. iii. chorus. 
See a siege : 
Behold the ordnance on their carriages. 
With fatal mouths gaping on girded Harfleur. 

H. V. iii. chorus. 
Follow thy drum ; 
With man's blood paint the ground, gules, gules : 
Religious canons, civil laws, are cruel ; 
Then what should war be ? T. A. iv. 3. 

Mortal staring war. E. Ill, v. 3. 

God forgive the sins of all those souls, 
That to their everlasting residence. 
Before the dew of evening fall, shall fleet, 
In dreadful trial of our kingdom^ s king. K. J, ii. 1. 

Why have they dar'd to march 
So many miles upon her peaceful bosom ; 
Frighting her pale-facM villages with war, 
And ostentation of despightful arms ? E. IL ii. 3* 

He is their god ; he leads them like a thing, 

Made by some other deity than nature. 

That shapes man better ; and they follow him, 

Against us brats, with no less confidence, 

Than boys pursuing summer butterflies. 

Or butchers killing flies. C. iv. 6. 

Sword, hold thy temper ; heart, be wrathful still : 

Priests pray for enemies, but princes kill. H. VL pt. ii. v. 2. 

Alas, poor country ! 
Almost afraid to know itself! It cannot 
Be caird our mother, but our grave : where nothing, 

397 34 

WAR IjinkBsptariaii iittiniiatii. war 

WAR, — continued. 

But who knows nothing, is once seen to smile ; 

Where sighs, and groans, and shrieks that rend the air, 

Are made, not marked ; where violent sorrow seems 

A modern ecstacy ; the dead man's knell, 

Is there scarce ask'd, for who ; and good men^s lives 

Expire before the flowers in their caps, 

Dying, or ere they sicken. M. iv. 3. 

Therefore, my Harry, 
Be it thy course to busy giddy minds 
With foreign quarrels ; that action, hence borne out, 
May waste the memory of the former days. 

H. IV, PT. II. iv. 4 

Examples, gross as earth, exhort me : 
Witness, this army of such mass, and charge. 
Led by a delicate and tender prince ; 
Whose spirit, by divine ambition puflfd, 
Makes mouths at the invisible event ; 
Exposing what is mortal, and unsure, 
To all that fortune, death, and danger, dare. 
Even for an egg-shell. H. iv. 4. 

England hath long been mad, and scarr'd herself ; 

The brother blindly shed the brother's blood, 

The father rashly slaughter'd his own son, 

The son, compell'd, been butcher to the sire. E. Ill v. 4. 

lie is come to ope 
The purple testament of bleeding war ; 
But ere the crown he looks for live in peace. 
Ten thousand bloody crowns of mothers' sons 
Shall ill-become the flower of England's face ; 
Change the complexion of her maid-pale face, 
To scarlet indignation, and bedew 
Iler pastures' grass with faithful English blood. 

H, IL iii. 3. 

Ah, gracious lord, these days are dangerous ! 

Virtue is chok'd with foul ambition. 

And charity chas'd hence by rancour's hand : 

Eoul subornation is predominant. 

And equity exil'd your highness' land. II. VI. pt. ii. iii. 1, 

Shall we go throw away our coats of steel, 
And wrap our bodies in black mourning gowns, 
Numb'ring our Ave-Maries with our beads? 
Or shall we, on the helmets of our fees. 
Tell our devotion with revengeful arms ! 

H. YL PT. Ill ii. 1,' 

WAR |liiik!5|rBariiiii Birtinnnrif. war 

WAR, — continued. 

V\\ use the advantage of my power, 
And lay the summer^s dust with show'rs of blood, 
EainM from the wounds of slaughtered Englishmen. 

ie.IZ". iii.3. 
Let confusion of one part, confirm 
The other's peace ; till then, blows, blood, and death. 

z:/. ii.2 

At this time. 
We sweat and bleed : the friend hath lost his friend ; 
And the best quarrels, in the heat, are cursed 
By those that feel their sharpness. K. L. v. 3. 

Your own ladies, and pale-visag'd maids, 
Like Amazons, come tripping after drums ; 
Their thimbles into armed guantlets change. 
Their neelds to lances, and their gentle hearts 
To fierce and bloody inclination, K. J. v. 2, 

It is war's prize to take all vantages, • 

And ten to one is no impeach of valour. H. VI. pt. hi. i. 4. 

Thou know'st, great son, 
The end of war's uncertain. (7. v. 3. 

0, now doth death line his dead chaps with steel ; 
The swords of soldiers are his teeth, his fangs ; 
And now he feasts, mouthing the flesh of men, 
In undetermined differences of kings. K. J. ii. 2. 

Let them come ; 
They come like sacrifices in their trim, 
And to the fire-ey'd maid of smoking war. 
All hot and bleeding, will we oiFer them : 
The mailed Mars shall on his altar sit. 
Up to the ears in blood. H. IV. pt. i. iv. 1. 

Come, let us make a muster speedily : 
Doomsday is near ; die all, die merrily. H. IV. pt. i. iv. 1. 

It may well serve 
A nursery to our gentry, who are sick 
For breathing and exploit. A. TV. i. 2. 

The gallant monarch is in aims ; 
And like an eclgle o'er his aiery towers, 
To souse annoyance that comes near his nest. K. J. v. 2. 
Away, you trifler ! Love ? I love thee not, 
I care not for thee, Kate ; this is no world, 
To play with mammets, and to tilt with lips : 
We must have bloody noses, and crack'd crowns. 
And pass them current too : — Gods me, my horse ! 

jET./F. PT.i.ii.3, 


WAR IjiakopEriEH Birttniian];. wee 

WAR, — continued, 

1 do believe, 
Statist though I am none, nor like to be, 
That this will prove a war. Cym ii. 4. 

Let me have war, say I ; it exceeds peace, as far as day 
does night ; it^s spritely, waking, audible, and full of vent. 

C. iv. 5. 
They shall have wars, and pay for their presumption. 

H,VL PT. III. iv. 1. 

How now, lad ? is the wind in that door, i^ faith ? must 

we all march ? II.IV. pt. i. iii. 3. 

virtuous fight. 
When right with right wars, who shall be most right. 


Prognostics of. 

The bay-trees in our country all are withered. 

And meteors fright the fixed stars of heaven ; 

The pale-fac'd moon looks bloody on the earth, 

And lean-look' d prophets whisper fearful change ; 

Rich men look sad, and ruffians dance and leap. 

The one, in fear to lose what they enjoy, 

The other, to enjoy by rage and war. E, II. ii. 4. 


To paint the lily is wasteful. K. J, iv. 2. 


Why, you speak like an antient and most quiet watchman ; 
for I cannot see how sleeping should offend. M. A, iii. 3. 


This milky gentleness, and course of yours, 

Though I condemn it not, yet, under pardon, 

You are much more attask'd for want of wisdom, 

Than prais'd for harmful mildness. X. L. i. 4. 

I am weaker than a woman's tear, 
Tamer than sleep, fonder than ignorance ; 
Jiess valiant than the virgin in the night, 
And skilless as unpractis'd infancy. T,C. i. 1, 


How i' the name of thrift doth lie rake this together ? 

H.rill. iii. 2. 


Faults that are rich, are fair. T.A. i. 2. 

WEEPING (See also Grief, Lamentation, Sorrow, Tears) 
Give me no help in lamentation, 
I am net barren to bring forth laments : 


WEE |li{iktH|iBEriaii Dirtinuanf. wel 

^V I] EPING, — coniuiued. 

All springs reduce! their currents to mine eyes, 

That I, being govcrnM by the wafry moon^ 

May send forth plenteous tears to drown the "vrorld ! 

li. Ill ii. 2. 
To weep is to make less the depth of grief. 

U. VI. PT. III. ii. 1 
And the remainder mourning over them, 
Brim full of sorrow, and dismay; but chiefly, 
Him you term'd. Sir, the good old lord Gonzalo ; 
His tears run down his beard, like winter's drops 
From eaves of reeds. T. v. 1. 

No, I'll not weep : — 
I have full cause of weeping ; but this heart 
Shall break into a hundred thousand flaws, 
Or ere I'll weep. K. L. ii. 4. 

1 can.not weep : for all my body's moisture 
Scarce serves to quench my furnace-burning heart. 

IL VL PT. III. ii. L 
'Twill be this hour ere I have done weeping. T.G. ii. 3. 


A hundred thousand welcomes : I could weep, 

And I could laugh ; I am light, and heavy : welcome : 

A curse begin at very root of his heart, 

That is not glad to see thee ! C. ii. 1. 

Ah, Juliet, if the measure of th}^ joy 

Be heap'd like mine, and that thy skill be more 

To blazon it, then sweeten with thy breath 

This neighbour air, and let rich music's tongue 

Unfold the imagined happiness that both 

lleceive in either by this dear encounter. B. J. ii. 6. 

Sir, you are very welcome to our house ; 

It must appear in other ways than words, 

Therefore I scant this breathing courtesy. 31. V. v. 1. 

I reckon this always, — that a man is never undone till 
he be hanged ; nor never welcome to a place till some cer- 
tain shot be paid, and the hostess say, welcome. T. G. ii.5. 

If thou wantest any thing, and wilt not call, beshrew thy 
heart. H. IV. pt. ii. v. 3. 

WELL Doing. 

Things done well. 
And with a care, exempt themselves from fear. 

ff. VIII. i. 2. 

■ — THE Duty of. I) 

We are born to do benefits. T.A. i. 5 

401 34* 

WEL lljnkrsjitn'iittt DiriiDiiiiiif. wif 

WELL DoiNTx, THE DijTV OF,— continued. 

Heaven doth with uh, as we with torches do ; 

Not lig'ht them for thcins-;3lves : for if our virtues 

Did not go forth of us, ^twore all alike 

Ail if we had thorn not. Spirits are not finely touch'd, 

But to fine issues : nor nature never lends 

The smallest sci'uple of her excellence, 

But, like a thrifty goddess, she determines 

Herself the glory of a creditor, 

Both thanks and use. M, M. i. 1. 


But I will never be a truant, lovo, 

Till I have learn'd thy language ; for thy tongue 

Makes Welsh as sweet as ditties highly penn'd, 

Sung by a fair queen, in a summer's bower, 

With ravishing division to her lute. IL IV. pt. i. iii. 1. 

Now I perceive the devil understands Welsh ; 

And His no marvel he's so humorous. H. IV. pt. I. iii. 1 


Cannot a plain man live, and think no harm, 

But thus his simple truth must be abus'd 

By silken, sly, insinuating Jacks ? R. III. i. 3. 


AVhiter than new snow on a raven's back. E. J. iii. 2. 

I take thy hand ; this hand, 
As soft as doves-down, and as white as it ; 
Or Ethiopian's tooth, or the fann'd snoAV, 
That's bolted by the northern blasts twice o'er. W. T. iv. 3. 

AND Red. 

If she be made of white and red, 

Her faults will ne'er be known. 
For blushing cheeks by fliults are bred. 

And fears by pale-white shown 
Then, if she fear, or be to blame. 

By this you shall not know ; 
For still her cheeks possess the same. 

Which native she doth owe. L. L. i. 2. 

WIFE (See also Espousal). 

My noble tather, 
I do perceive here a divided duty : 
To you I am bound for life and education ; 
My life and education both do learn me 
How to respect you ; you are the lord of duty ; 
1 am hitherto your daughter : But here's my husband ; 
And so much duty as my mother show'd 

wiF lltakEspEnriiin Birtinmin^ wif 

WIFE, — continued. 

To you, preferring you before her fatlier, 

So much I challenge that I may profess 

Due to the Moor, my lord. , 0. i. 3. 

Within the bond of marriage, tell me, Brutus, 

Is it excepted, I should know no secrets 

That appertain to you ? Am I yourself 

But, as it were, on scjrt, or limitation ; 

To keep with you at meals, comfort your bed. 

And talk to you sometimes ? Dwell I but in the suburbs 

Of your good pleasure ? If it be no more, 

Portia is Brutus' harlot, not his wife. J.C. ii. 1. 

Such duty as the subject owes the prince, 

Even such a woman owetb to her husband : 

And, when she's froward, peevish, sullen, sour, 

And not obedient to his honest will. 

What ii5 she but a foul contending rebel, 

And graceless traitor to her loving lord ? T. S. v. 2. 

Thy husband is thy lord, thy life, thy keeper. 

Thy head, thy sovereign ; one that cares for thee, 

And f )r thy maintenance : commits Ins body 

To painful labour, both by sea and land ; 

To watch the night in storms, the day in cold, 

While thou liest warm at home, secure and safe ; 

And craves no other tribute at thy hands, 

But love, fair looks, and true obedience. T. S. v. 2. 

I will be master of what is mine own : 

She is my goods, my chattels ; she is my house. 

My household-stuff, my Held, my barn, 

My horse, my ox, my ass, my anything ; 

And here she stands, touch her whoever dare ; 

I will bring mine action on the proudest he 

That stops my wav in Padua. T. S. iii. 2. 

Go thy ways, Kate : 
That man i' the world, who shall report he has 
A better wife, let him in nought be trusted, 
For speaking false in that : Thou art, alone, 
(If thy rare qualities, sweet gentleness, 
Thy meekness saint-like, wife-like government, — 
Obeying in commanding, — and thy parts 
Sovereign and pious else, could speak thee out,) 
The queen of earthly queens. JJ. VIII. ii. 4. 

You are my true and honourable wife ; 
As dear to me, as are the ruddy drops, 
V That visit my sad heart. /. C, ii. 1. 


wiF IjjaktBpiiriiiii SirtinDnnf, wif 

WIFE, — continued. 

0, ye gods, 
Kender me worth j of this noble wife ! J.C, ii. i. 

I grant I am a woman ; but, withal, 

A woman that lord Brutus took to wife ; 

I grant I am a woman ; but, withal, 

A woman well reputed ; Cato's daughter. 

Think you, I am no stronger than my sex, 

Being so father'd and so husbanded ? J,C. ii. 1 

She is mine own ; 
And I as rich in having such a jewel, 
As twenty seas, if all their sand were pearl, 
The water nectar, and the rocks pure gold. T. G. ii. 4. 

Should all despair, 
That have revolted wives, the tenth of mankind 
Would hang themselves. Physic for't there is none: 
It is a bawdy planet, that will strike 
Where ^tis predominant. W. T. i. 2 

As for my wife, 
I would you had her spirit in such another ; 
The third ^o the world is yours : which, with a snaffle, 
You may pace easy, but not such a wife. AX\ ii. 2. 

But the full sum of me 
Is siim of something ; which, to term in gross, 
Is an unlesson'd girl, unschool'd, unpractised : 
Happy in this, she is not yet so old 
But she may learn ; happier than this, 
She is not bred so dull but she can learn ; 
Happiest of all, is, that her gentle spirit 
Commits itself to yours, to be directed, 
As from her lord, her governor, her king. M. F. iii. 2 

I am asham'd, that women are so simple 

To ofi'er war where they should sue for peace ; 

Or seek for rule, supremacy, and sway, 

When they are bound to serve, love, and obey. T. 5. v. 2. 

Fye, fye, unknit that threatening unkind brow; 

And dart not scornful glances, from those eyes, 

To wound thy lord, thy king, thy governor ; 

It blots thy beauty, as frosts bite the meads ; 

Confounds thy fame, as whirlwinds shake fair buds ; 

And in no sense is meet or amiable. T. S.v.2. 

Would it not grieve a woman to be over-mastered by a 
piece of valiant dust ? to make an account of her life to a 
clod of wayv;ard marie ? M. A, ii, 1. 


wiF IjiaktHjiciiriiiE Birtinuarti, win 

WIFE, Slighted. 

Alas, poor lady ! 
'Tis a hard bondage, to become the wife 
Of a detesting lord. A. W, iii. 5. 

I do think, it is their husbands' faults, 
If wives do f^ill ; Say, that they slack their duties 
And pour our treasures into foreign laps ; 
Or else break out in peevish jealousies. 
Throwing restraint upon us ; or, say, they strike us, 
Or scant our former having in despight : 
Why, we have galls ; and, though we have some grace, 
Yet have we some revenge. Let husbands know. 
Their wives have sense like thorn : they see, and smell, 
And have their palates both for sweet and sour, 
As husbands have. What is it that they do. 
When they change us for others? Is it sport? 
I think it is : And doth aifection breed it ? 
I think it doth ; Is't frailty, that thus errs ? 
It is so too : And have not we aTf^^ctions ? 
Desires for sport? and frailty, as men have? 
Then, let them use us well ; else, let them know, 
The ills we do, their ills instruct us to. 0. iv. 3. 


0, Sir, to wilful men. 
The injuries* that they themselves procure 
Must be their schoolmasters. K» L. ii. 4. 


For death remember'd, should be like a mirror, 

Who tell us, life's but breath ; to trust it, error. 

I'll make liiy will then ; and, as sick men do, 

Who know the world, see heaven, but feeling woe, 

Gripe not at earthl}^ j^ys, as erst they did. P. P. i. I. 

Thou mak'st a testament 
As worldlings do, giving thy sum of more 
To that which had too much. A,Y. ii, 1. 

Fetch the will hither, and we shall determine 

How to cut off some charge in legacies. /. C. iv. 1. 

Ay, who doubts that ? a will I a wicked will ; 

A woman's will ; a canker'd grandam's will. K. J. ii. 1. 

My will? Od's heartlings, that's a pretty jest, indeed! 
I ne'er made my will yet, I thank heaven ; I am not such 
a sickly creature, I give heaven praise. M. W. iii. 4, 


Ill blows the wind that profits nobody. H. VL pt. hi. ii. 5 

WIN |l)aIvB3]iutiaii Dirtinuan}. wit 

WIXE (See also Drunkard). 

Drank ! and speak parrot? and squabble? and swagger? 
and speak fustian with one^s own shadow? 0, thou invisi- 
ble spirit of wine, if thou hast no name to be known by, 
let us call thee — devil I 0. ii. 3. 

Come, come ; good wine is a good familiar creature, if it 
be well used ; exclaim no more against it. 0. ii. 3. 

• Winning would put any man into courage. Cym. ii. 3. 

\\ INTER. 

When icicles hang by the Avail, 

And Dick the rdiepherd blows liis nail, 
And Tom bears logs into the hall, 
And milk comes frozen home in pail ; 

W^hen blood is nipt, and ways be foul, 
Then nightly sings the staring owl 
Tu-whit! to-who ! a merry note, 
While greasy Joan doth keel the pot. 

AV"hen all aloud the wind doth blow. 

And coughing drowns the parson's saw, 
And birds sit brooding in the snow, 
And Marian's nose looks rod and raw; 
When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl, 
Then nightly, &c. L. L. v. 2. 


Ay, marry ; now unmuzzle your wisdom. A. Y. i. 2. 

To wisdom he's a fool that will not yield. P. P. ii. 4. 


Wishers were ever fools. A.C. iv. 13. 


We will spare for no wit, I warrant you. 3L A. iii. 5. 

He uses his folly like a stalking horse, and und^r the pre- 
sentation of that, he shoots his wit. A.Y. v. 4. 

Odd quirks and remnants of wit. M. A. ii. 3, 

Since the little wit that fools have, was silenced, the little 
foolery that wise men have, makes a great bhow. ^1.1". 1.2. 

But a merrier man, 
AV^ithin the limit of becoming mirtli, 
1 never spent an hour's talk witlirtl : 
His eye begets occasion for his Avit ; 


WIT IjjEkjsptnrinn Sirtinimnf. wit 

WIT, — coniimied. 

For every object that the one doth catch, 

The other turns to a i.iirth-moving jest ; 

Which his fair tongue (conceit's expositor] 

Delivers in such apt and gracious words, 

That aged ears play truant at his tales, 

And younger hearings are quite ravished, 

So sweet and voluble is his discourse. L. L. ii. 1, 

A fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy. H. v. 1. 

Muster your wits : stand on your defence ; 

Or hide your heads like cowards, and fly hence, i. L. v. 2. 

Those wits that think they have thee, do very oft prove 
fools ; and I, that am sure I lack thee, may pass for a wise 
man : for what says Quinapalus ? Better a witty fool, than 
a foolish wit. T. N. i. 5. 

I am not only witty in myself, but the cause that wit is 
in other men. H.IV, ft. ii. i. 2. 

It is no matter, if I do halt ; I have the wars for my colour, 
and my pension shall seem the more reasonable : A good 
wit will make use of any thing ; 1 will turn diseases to com- 
modity. II. IV. FT. II. i. 2. 

By my troth, we that have good wits, have much to 
answer for ; we shall be flouting ; we cannot hold. A. Y. v. 1. 

Sir, your wit ambles well ; it goes easily. M. A. v. 1 . 

Dart thy skill at me ; 
Bruise me with scorn, confound me with a flout ; 
Thrust thy sharp wit quite through my ignorance ; 
Cut me to pieces with thy keen conceit. L. L. v. 2. 

You should then have accosted hor ; and with some excel- 
lent jest, fire-new from the mint, you shoiild have banged 
tlie youth into dumbness. T. N. iii. 2. 

Have you not set mine honour at the st-ake, 

And baited it with all the unmuzzled thoughts 

That tyrannous heart can think ? T. N. iii. 1. 

Lo, 1g, lo, lo, what modicums of wit he utters ! T.C. ii. 1. 

0, she would laugh me 
Out of myself, press me to death with wit. M. A. iii. 1 

He wants wiu that wants resolved will. T.G. ii. 6. 

He doth, indeed, show some sparks that are like wit. 

M. A. ii 3. 

WIT |liiikrij]ifiitiEii fiirtiniiiin[. wit 

WIT, — continued. 

Good wits will be jangling ; but, gentles, agree. L. L, ii. 1, 

None are so surel}^ caught when they are catch'd, 

As wit turn'd fool : folij, in wisdom hatch'd, 

Hath wisdom's warrant, and the help of school ; 

And wit's own grace to grace a learned fool. L. L, v. 2. 

Folly in fools bears not so strong a note, 

As foolery in the wise when wit doth dote ; 

Since all the power thereof it doth apply, 

To prove, by wit, worth in simplicity. L, L. v. 2. 

Are these the breed of wits so wondered at ? L, L. v. 2. 

Thou hast pared thy wit o' both sides, and left nothing in 
the middle. K, L. i. 4. 

His wit is as thick as Tewkesbury mustard. 

H, IV, PT. II. ii. 4. 

Hector shall have a great catch, if he knock out either 
of your brains ; 'a were as good crack a fusty nut with no 
kernel. T.C. ii. 1. 

Are his wits safe ? is he not light of brain ? 0. iv. 1. 

See now, how wit may be made a Jack-a-lent, when 'tis 
upon ill employment. M, W. v. 5. 

Well, better wits have worn j>lain statute caps.- L. L. v. 2 

When a man's verses cannot be understood, nor a man^s 
good wit seconded by the forward child, understanding, it 
strikes a man more dead than a great reckoning in a little 
room. A.Y, iii. 3 

God help me ! how long have you profess'd apprehension ? 

M. A. iii. 4. 

He'll but break a comparison or two on me ; whi-ch, per- 
adventure, not marked, or not laughed at, strikes him into 
melancholy ; and than there's a partridge's wing saved, for 
the fool will eat no supper that night. M, A, ii. 1. 


Nay, I shall ne'er be 'ware of mine own wit, till I break 
my shins against it. A. V. ii. 4 

WIT, Reflections on the Scull of a. 

Where be your gibes now ? your gambols ? your songs / 
your flashes of merriment, that were wont to set the table 
in a roar ? Not one now to mock your own grinning ? quite 


WIT l^jiElvopEiiriaii I)irtiniiiiri[. wit 

WIT, Eeflections on the Scull of a, — continued. 

chap-fallen ? Now get you to my lady^s chamber, and tell 
her, let her paint an inch thick, to this favour she must 
come ; make her laugh at that. H.y,l, 

• , Women's. 

Make the.doors upon a woman's wit, and it will out at 
the casement ; shut that, and ^twiH out -at the key-hole : 
stop that, 'twill fly with the smoke out at the chimney. 


Upon her wit doth earthly honour wait, 
And virtue stoops and trembles at her frown. 

Tit And. ii. 1. 


This fellow pecks up wit, as pigeons, pease ; 

And utters it again when God doth please : 

lie is wit's pedlar ; and retails his wares 

At wakes, and wassails, meetings, markets, fairs; 

And we that sell by the gross, the Lord doth know, 

Have not the grace to grace it with such show. L. L. v. 2. 


What are these, 
So wither'd, and so wild in their attire, 
That look not like the inhabitants o' the earth. 
And yet are on't? Live you ? or are you aught 
That man may question ? You seem to understand me, 
By each at once her choppy finger laying 
Upon her skinny lips : — You should be women, 
And yet your beards forbid me to interpret 
That you are so. M. i. 3. 

I conjure you, by that which you profess, 

(Ilowe'er you come to know it,) answer me : 

Though you untie the winds, and let them tight 

Against the churches ; though the yesty waves 

Confound and swallow navigation up ; 

Thougli bladed corn be lodg'd, and trees blown down ; 

Though castles topple on their warder's heads ; 

Though palaces, and pyramids, do slope 

Their heads to their foundations ; though the treasur* 

Of nature's germins tumble altogether, 

Ev'n till destruction sicken, — answer me 

To what I ask. M. iv. 1. 


So to your pleasures ; 
am for other than for dancing measures. A.Y. v. 4. 

409 U 

WOE |{ialttij]itiirutt SittinEartj* wol 


0, what a sympathy of woe is this! 

As far from help as limbo is from bliss! Tit And. iii. 1. 

WOLSEY, Cardinal. 

You are meek and humble mouth'd ; 
You sign your place, and calling, in full seeming, 
With meekness and humility : but your heart 
Is.cramn'd with arrogancy, spleen, and pride. 
You have, by fortune, and his highness^ favours. 
Gone slightly o'er low steps ; and now are mounted, 
Where powers are your retainers ; and your words 
(Domestics to you) serve your wil] as't please 
ITourself pronounce their office. I must tell you, 
Y^ou tender more your person's honour, than 
Your high profession spiritual. H. Till. ii. 4, 

He was a man 
Of an unbounded stomach, ever ranking 
Himself with princes : one, that by suggestion. 
Tied all the kingdom : simony was fair p\aj ; 
Ilis own opinion was his law : F the presence 
lie would say untruths ; and be ever double, 
Both in his words and meaning : lie was never 
(But where he meant to ruin) pitful: 
ilis promises were, as he then was, mighty ; 
But his performance, as he is now, nothing. 
Of his own body he was ill, and gave 
The clergy ill example. H. VIII iv. 2L 

This cardinal, 
Though from an humble stock, undoubtedly 
"Was fashion'd to much honour. From his cradle 
lie was a scholar, and a ripe, and good one; 
Exceeding wise, fair spoken, and persuading : 
L;)fty, and sour, to them that lov'd him not; 
But, to those men that sought him, sweet as summer: 
And though he were unsatisfied in getting, 
(Which was a sin.) yet, in bestowing, xMadara, 
lie was most princely. Ever wHness for him 
Those twins of learning, that I e rais'd in you, 
Ipswich, and Oxford : one of v aich fell with him, 
Unwilling to outlive the good" that did it. 
The other, though unfinish'd, yet so famous, 
So excellent in art, and still so rising, 
T'mt Christendom shall e\'^r speak his virtue, 
Ilis overi'hrow heap'd happiness upon hin-i ; 
For then, and not till then, he felt himself, 
And found the blessedness of being little : 

YfOL lljullBBiiBEriaii I)irtiniiiin{. wom 

^YOLSEY, —coniinued. 

And, to add greater honours to his age 

Than man could give him, he died, 

Fearing God. K VIIL iv. 2. 


Ah me ! how weak a thing 
The heart of woman is I J. C. ii. 4. 

When maidens sue 
Men give like gods ; but when they weep and kneel, 
All their petitions are as freely theirs 
As they themselves would have them. M. M. i. 5. 

We cannot fight for love, as men may do ; 

We should be woo'd, and were not made to woo. 

M. N, ii. 2. 

Women are not 
In their best fortunes, strong ; but want will perjure 
The ne'er touch'd vestal. A. C. iii. 10. 

These women are shrewd tempters with their tongues. 

H. VI, I'T. I. i. 2. 

most delicate fiend ! 
Who is't can read a woman ? C^/m. v. 5. 

She's beautiful ; and therefore to be woo'd : 

She is a woman ; therefore to be won. R. VL pt. i. v. 3. 

Come on, come on: You are pictures out of doors. 
Bells in your parlours, wild cats in your kitchens, 
Saints in your injuries, devils being offended. 
Players in your housewifery, and housewives in your beds. 

0. li. 1. 

A woman mov'd, is like a fountain troubled, 

Muddy, ill-soeming, thick, bereft of beauty ; 

And, while it is so, none so dry or thirsty, 

W^ill deign to dip or touch one drop of it. T. S. v. 2. 

Can my sides hold, to think, that man, — who knows 

V?y history, report, or his own proof, 

Yv^hat woman is, yea, what she cannot choose 

But must be, — will his free hours languish for 

Assured bondage ? Ci/m. i, T 

The bountiful blind woman [Fortune] doth most mist;t^ 

in her gifts to women. For those that she makes fair, sh<i 

BC/arce makes honest ; and those that she makes honest, she 

makes very ill-fltvouredly. J[.F. i. 2, 


woM |li(ik!H|iHriiiii SirtinHartt. won 

WOMAN, — contimied. 

Ah ! poor our sex ! this fault in us I find, 

The error of our eye directs our mind. T. C. v. 2, 

That we can call these delicate creatures ours, 

And not their appetites ! 0, iii. 3, 

' General Inyective against. 

Is there no way for men to be, but women 

Must be half workers ? We are bastards all : 

And that most venerable man, which I 

Did call my father, was I know not where 

When I was stampt ; some coiner with his tools 

Made me a counterfeit : yet my mother seemed 

The Dian of that time : so doth my wife 

The nonpareil of this. vengeance ! vengeance ! 

^le of my lawful pleasure she restrained, 

And prayM me, oft, forbearance ; did it with 

A pudency so rosy, the sweet view on't 

flight well have warm'd old Saturn ; that I thought her 

As chaste as unsunn'd snow : 0, all the devils ! 

Could I find out 
The woman's part in me ! For there's no motion 
That tends to vice in man, but I affirm 
It is the woman's part : Be it lying, note it. 
The woman's ; flattering, hers ; deceiving, hers ; 
Lust and rank thoughts, hers, hers ; revenges, hers ; 
Ambitions, covetings, change of prides, disdain, 
Nice longings, slanders, mutability : 
All faults that may be nam'd, nay, that hell knows, 
Why, hers, in part, or all; but, rather, all: — 
For even to vice 

They are not constant, but are changing still 
One vice, but of a minute old, for one 
Not half so old as that. I'll write against them, 
Detest them, curse them : — Yet 'tis greater skill, 
In a true hate, to pray they have their will : 
The very devils cannot plague them better. Cijm, ii. 5. 


Masters, I am to discourse wonders. M. K, iv. 2. 

They spake not a word ; 
But, like dumb statues, or breathless stones, 
Star'd on each other, and look'd deadly pale. R. III. iii. 7. 

Can such things be. 
And overcome us like a summer's cloud. 
Without our special wonder ? You make me strange, 
Even to the disposition that I owe, 


WON lljakEspEriaii I3irtinniirt[. wor 

W O^Jy'E.n,— continued. 

When now I think you can behold such sights, 

And keep the natural ruby of your cheeks, 

While mine are blanch'd with fear. if. iii. 4. 

For my part, I am so attir'd in wonder, 

I know not what to say. M. A. iv. 1. 

Why, 'tis the rarest argument of wonder, that hath shot 
out in our latter times. A. W. ii. 1. 

One that excels the quirks of blazoning pens. 0. ii. L 

These are not natural events ; they strengthen, 

From strange to stranger. 2Tv. 1. 

Bring in the admiration ; that we with thee 

May spend our wonder too, or take off thine, 

By wond'ring how thou took'st it. A. W. ii. 1. 

WOOING, Wedding, ANii Repenting. 

Wooing, wedding, and repenting, are as a Scotch jig, a 
measure, and a cinque pace : the first suit is hot and hasty, 
like a Scotch jig, and full as fantastical ; the wedding, 
mannerly modest, as a measure full of state and ancientry ; 
and then comes repentance, and, with his bad legs, falls 
into the cinque-pace faster and faster, till he sink into his 
grave; M.A. ii. 1. 

WORDS (See also Verbosity). 

A tine volley of words, gentlemen, and quickly shot off. 

T,G. ii.4. 

And tire the hearer with a book of words. M, A, i. 1. 

Good words are better than bad strokes. /. C. v. 1 . 

You have an exchequer of words, and, I think, no other 
treasure to give your followers ; for it appears by their bare 
liveries, that they live by your bare words. T. G. ii. 4. 

Words are very rascals since bonds disgraced them. 

T. JSr. iii. 1. 

Words are grown so false, I am loath to prove reason 
with them. T. N. iii. I. 

His plausive words 
He scattered not in ears, but grafted them 
To grow there, and to bear. A. W. i. 2. 

I will maintain the word with my sword, to be a soldier- 
like word, and a word of exceeding good command. 

H. ir. PT. II. iii. 2. 

413 86* 

WOE Ijinktspuriitii l)irtininirt(. wor 


0, thej have lived long in the alms-basket of words. 

L. L, V. 1. 

Let not his smoo4iing words 
bewitch your hearts ; be wii*'^, and circumspect. 

^.FI. FT. II. i.l. 

-_ . AND Blows. 

Brutus. — Sir, I hope, 
Mv words disbench'd yon v^Cti. 

Coriolanus. — No, Sir ; yet oft, 
AYlien blows have oado me stay, I fled from words. C, ii. 2. 

WOKDS, Meretricious -AsnsE of. 

They that dally /iicely with words, may quickly make 
them wanton. . T. JV". iii. 1. 


All the world's a stage, 
And all the men j>*^d women, merely players : 
They have their ^xits and their entrances ; 
And one man in his time plays many parts, 
llis acts being seven ages. At first, the infant; 
JMewling and puking in the nurse's arms: 
Aud then, the whining school-boy, with his satcjiel, 
And shining morning face, creeping, like snail, 
Unwillingly to school: And then, the lover; 
Sighing like furnace, with a woful ballad 
Made to his mistress' eye-brow: Tlien, a soldier; 
Full of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard, 
Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel, 
Seeking the bubble reputation 

Ev'n in the cannon's mouth: And then, the justice; 
In fair round belly, with good capon lin'd, 
With eyes severe, and beard of formal cut, 
Full of wise saws, and modern instances, 
And so he plays his part: The sixth age shifts 
Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon ; 
With spectacles on nose, and pouch on side ; 
His youthful hose, well sav'd, a world too wide 
For his shrunk shank ; and his big manly voice, 
'i'urning again towards childish treble, pipes 
And whistles in the sound: Last scene of all, 
That ends this strange eventful history. 
Is second childishness, and mere oblivion ; 
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans every thing. 

^.F. ii.7. 

Under the canopy. C. iv. 5. 

WOK ^liakEspEEriEU DittinnErti. wor 

WORLD, — continued. 

The varjing shore o' the world. A.C, iv. 13. 

This wide and universal theatre 
Presents more woful pageants, than the scene 
AVherein we play. A.T, ii.7. 

O, world, thy slippery turns ! Friends now fast sworn, 
Whose double bosoms seem to wear one heart, , 
Whose hours, whose bed, whose meal, and exercise 
Are still together: who twin, as 'twere, in love, 
Unseparable, shall within this hour, 
On a dissentio-n of a doit, break out 
. To bitterest enmity : So, fellest foes. 
Whose passions and whose plots have broke their sleep. 
To take tlie one the other, by some chance, 
S )me trick not worth an egg, shall grow dear friends, 
And iuterjoin thoir issues. C. iv. 4. 

A bad wor4d, I say ! I would, I were a weaver ; I could 
sing all manner of songs. H. IV. pt. i. ii. 4. 

How you speak ! 
Did you but know the city's usuries, 
And felt them knowingly : the art o' the court. 
As hard to leave, as keep ; whose top to climb 
Is certain falling ; or so slippery, that 
The fear's as bad as fliUing: the toil of the war, 
A pain that o-nly seems to seek out danger 
1' the name of fame, and honour, which dies i' the search ; 
And hath as oft a slanderous epitaph, 
As record of fair act ; nay, many times, 
Doth ill deserve by doing well ; what's worse, 
Must court'sey at the censure : — 0, boys, this ljOyj, 
The world may read in me. Cpn. iii. S. 

A man may see how this world goes, with no eyes. Look 
with thine ears : S&e how yon' justice rails upon yon' simple 
thief. Hark, in thine ear: Change places ; and, handy- 
dandy, which is the justice, which is the thief? K. L. iv. (3 

It is a reeling world, indeed, my lord. Ii. III. iii. 2. 

I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano, 
A stage, where every man must play a part. 
And mine a sad one. M.V. i. 1. 

Fie, fie, fie ! Pah, pah ! Give me an ounce of civet, 
good apothecary, to sweeten my imagination: there's money 
for thee. X. L. iv. 6. 

ruin'd piece of nature ! This great world 
Shall so Avear out to nought. K. L. iv. G. 


woR lljiiltBHpiiriEE DirtintiErif. wok 

WOKLD, — continued. 

Come, let's away to prison : 
We two alone will sing like birds i' the cage : 
Vv^hen thou dost ask my blessing, I'll kneel down, 
And ask of thee forgiveness : So we'll live, 
And pray, and sing, and tell old tales, and laugh 
At gilded butterflies, and hear poor rogues 
Talk of court news ; and we'll talk with them too, — 
Who loses, and who wins ; who's in, who's out ; — 
And take upon's the mystery of things, 
As if we were God's spies : And we'll wear out, 
In a wall'd prison, packs and sects of great ones. 
That ebb and flow by the moon. K. L. v. 3 

Sweet prince, the untainted virtue of your years 

Hath not yet div'd into the world's deceit: 

No more can you distinguish of a man, 

Than of his outward show, which, God he knows, 

Seldom, or never, jumpeth with the heart. R. III. iii. 1. 

I am in this earthly world ; where, to do harm, 

Is often laudable : to do good, sometimes 

Accounted dangerous folly. Jf. iv. 2. 

You have too much respect upon the world : 

Tliey lose it that do buy it with much care. M. F. i. 1. 

I am amaz'd, methinks ; and lose my way 

Among the thorns and dangers of this world. K. J. iv. 3. 

's Report. 

Noble madam, 
Men's evil manners live in brass : their virtues 
'Wq write in water. H. VIIL iv. 2. 

The evil that men do lives after thera ; 
The good is oft interred with their bones. J. C. iii. 2. 


Your worm is your only emperor for diet : we fat all 
creatures else to fat us ; and we fat ourselves for maggots : 
your fat king, and your lean beggar, is but variable ser- 
vice ; two dishes, but to one table ; that's the end. 

H. IV. 3. 

A man may fish with a worm that eat of a king . and 

eat of the fish that hath fed of that worm. li iv. 3, 


u gods ! who is't can say, I'm at the worst 

I am worse than e'er I was. K. L iv. 1. 

The worst is not, 
So long as we can say, — This is the worst. K. L. iv. 1, 


wou lljiikispaiiiiii iirtimiait]:. you 


The private wound is deepest. T. G» v. 4. 

WOUNDED Spirit. 

A discontented friend, grief-shot 
With his unkindness. (7. v. 1 


If that the heavens do not their visible spirits 

Send quickly down to tame these vile offences, 

'Twill come, 

Humanity must perforce prey on itself, 

Like monsters of the deep. K. L. iv. 2 

heavens, can you hear a good man groan, 

And not relent, or not compassion in him ? Tit. And. iv. 1. 

Broke oath on oath, committed wrong on wrong. 

H.IV, PT. I. iv. 3 



And you, good yeomen, 
Whose limbs were made in England, show us here 
The mettle of your pasture ; let us swear 
That you are worth your breeding, which I doubt not ; 
For there is none of you so mean and base, 
That hath not noble lustre in your eyes. H. V. iii. 1. 


A most acute juvenal ; voluble and free of grace. 

L. L. iii. 1. 

He capers, he dances, he has the eyes of youth, he writes 
verses, he speaks holyday, he smells April and May : he 
will carry't, he will carry't ; 'tis in his buttons ; he will 
carry't. M. W. iii. 2. 

A violet in the youth of primy nature. H. i. 3. 

She is young, and apt ; 
Our own precedent passions do instruct us 
What levity's in youth. T. A. i. 1. 

Young blood doth not obey an old decree. L. L. iv. 3 

For in her youth 
There is a prone and speechless dialect. 
Such as moves men ; besides, she hath prosperous art 
When sh^will play with reason and discourse. 
And well she can persuade. M. M/\,Z, 


YOU Ijjnkoprnrinii Hirtinimrii. zed 

YOVTll,— continued. 

Briefly die their joys, 
That place them on the truth of girls and boys. Oi/m. v. 5 • 

We were, fair queen, 
Two lads that thought there was no more behind, 
But such a day to-morrow as to-day, 
And to be boy" eternal. W. T. i. 2 

A proper stripling, and an amorous I T. S. i. 2. 

YOUTH, Melancholy. 

He hears merry tales, and smiles not: I fear he will 
prove the weeping philosopher when he grows old, being 
80 full of unmannerly sadness in his youth. M. V. i. 2. 


When his headstrong riot hath no curb. 
When rage and hot blood are his counsellors. 
When means and lavish manners meet together ; 
0, with what wings shall his affections fly 
Towards fronting peril and oppos'd decay. 

//. IV. FT. II. iv. 4. 


I protest, I take these wise men, that crow so at these 
set kind of fools, no better than the fools' zanies. 

T. N. i. 5. 

ZEAL Disregarded. 

To whose ingrate and unauspicious altars. 

My soul the faithfulFst offerings hath breathed out, 

That e'er devotion tendered, T. N. v. 1. 


Thou unnecessary letter I K. L. ii. 2,